#sitting in front of the laptop with the page open

[cupid-styles]

brat (sex columnist!harry x best friend!y/n)

in which y/n is best friends with harry, a sex columnist, who needs a little help answering a reader's question.

word count: 3k

content warnings: SMUT!!!! (mean dom/bratty sub dynamic, dirty talk, pussy spanking, paddling, sir kink, degradation, slight edging, fingering)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m really not.”

“No, but you are.”

“It would be for work and work only—”

“I don’t care.”

Harry sighs as he lifts a hand to run it through his curly hair. The noisy puff of air is filled with unsaid annoyance and Y/N tries her best not to roll her eyes at her best friend’s stubbornness, instead focusing on toying with the bracelet around her wrist. Instead of replying, he quickly runs his fingertips over the trackpad on his laptop so it glows back to life. 

“Can you at least hear me out?” he asks, his tone teetering on a polite plea, “You know writing about sex is my job. How am I supposed to help this person out when I can’t even offer a fair answer?”

Y/N crosses her arms and shrugs and Harry wishes he could reach across the couch and push them to her sides. 

“What makes you think I have any experience being a sub, anyway?” she fires back, keeping her eyes glued on the TV in front of them.

They're currently binging the newest season of The Bachelor, but Harry was more so using the dialogue and Y/N’s periodic gasps as background noise. For the past year or so, he’s held down a job at an online publication as a sex columnist. He loves it — people write in anonymously, asking him questions about everything from premature ejaculation to open relationships. Under the pen name H.E. Bell, he gets paid to write lengthy, thoughtful responses, helping his readers with approaching whatever sexual issue they’re facing. And this week, his editor really wants him to address a particular question about a dominant and submissive relationship. 

The thing is, though, is the letter comes from a sub. And Harry’s a dom. 

A mean one, at that.

So while Y/N’s diving into a pint of her favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (Phish Food, obviously), and Harry’s trying his best — and miserably failing — to place himself in the shoes of his submissive reader, he knows what he has to do.

“I hate to tell you, but you scream submissive,” Harry replies, pushing his laptop off of the couch and onto the coffee table. “Don’t even try to deny it. Just… just hear me out. Please. My deadline’s tomorrow afternoon.”

Y/N lets out an irritated huff as she grabs the TV remote and presses pause. Silently, she sits back against the couch, facing her best friend, and shoots him a displeased expression; a wordless allowance to speak. 

“I’m a dom and I’ve literally always been that way. You’re a sub, through-and-through. This person is asking about situations pertaining to experience as a submissive, and I can’t really provide them with the advice that they’re looking for since I’ve never been in that headspace.”

Y/N shrugs carelessly. She’s unbothered by his frank analysis of her subordinate behavior — it’s not exactly surprising that Harry, the sex columnist, is able to identify a sub, dom, or switch from 10 miles away. But that doesn’t mean she has to get dragged into his research, or whatever the hell he was trying to play it off as.

“Why don’t you just skip the question, then?” Y/N asks. “If you don’t have the right resources to offer an answer—”

“My editor thinks it’ll bring in a lot of page views,” he says, his throat bobbing with a swallow. His eyebrows draw together some, creating a small worried wrinkle between them. “Listen, I’ll fuck off if you’re totally uncomfortable with helping me, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know who else I could ask with this short of a timeframe.”

She sighs and brings her knees up to her chest. 

“Fine. Read me the question.”

A grin breaks out on Harry’s face as he grabs his laptop. He taps on the trackpad a few times as he brings the email up on the screen, eyes scanning over his bright inbox. 

“Okay, here’s what they said,” he clears his throat and Y/N really does roll her eyes this time, “Dear H.E.— I’ve been in a sexual relationship with my dominant for three months. Up until now, we’ve clicked really well. The chemistry is great and we always mesh really well both during scenes and aftercare. But lately, I’m worried I’ve been a little too bratty. For context, I’m a bratty sub with an attitude, but my dom knew that going into this. I fear that they’ll grow tired of my nonsense and insistent disobedience, but when I’m in my subspace or engaging in a scene with them, it’s hard for me to pull away from it. What should I do? Do you have any advice for what I can do as a sub to best help my dom?”

Y/N’s plucking at her bottom lip as Harry glances up from his computer. Blinking, she thinks for a moment before crafting a response.

“Well, it sounds like the sub needs to communicate their feelings to their dom. There seems to be a lot of insecurity.” she says. He hums, nodding his head as he types a few words on his keyboard. 

“Yeah, that’s true,” he murmurs, “They said it’s hard for them not to be in that bratty headspace, though.”

She shrugs, “I mean, if you’re a bratty sub, you’re a bratty sub. That’s just who you are.”

“Do you think there are any punishments that would work, then?”

“You’re the dom, shouldn’t you be able to answer that question?”

“I guess,” he replies, running his palm over the short bit of facial hair that’s grown on his chin in the past few days. “Spanking, edging, overstimulation, types of shibari, I guess…”

Y/N’s thighs squeeze involuntarily.

“...I just don’t know what works best.” he finishes his sentence, halting the tapping of his fingertips over the keyboard. “What do you think?”

She forces a swallow to coat her dry throat. “It depends.” she pushes out.

“Well, what works for you?”

She thinks for a moment. It’s been a minute since she’s been in a proper dominant/submissive dynamic — the last few times she’s had sex have all been one night stands and quick flings, all of which don’t allow enough time to learn about hard limits, punishments, and safe words. Her brain has to float back to a year ago, when she was sleeping with Reese, a soft dom who tried his best to tame her bratty nature but came back empty every time. He was good — the sex was good, but she wanted — no, needed — more.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really had a dominant… achieve that, I guess,” she mumbles thoughtfully. “I mean, I know what I like, as far as punishments go. But it’s not really about what the submissive likes, is it?”

“No,” Harry agrees. He hums as he opens up a second tab and she watches as he types the words “punishments for submissives” into the search engine. She sniffles and attempts to disregard the way her core instantly clenches. 

He’s silent as he reads through a few lists, occasionally jotting down some notes into his Google doc. Y/N swallows noisily when he glances back up at her, this time prepared with an apparent list of proposed consequences. 

“Okay, can you just tell me which ones you think most submissives would be fine with?”

She nods.

“Withgoing underwear in public?”

“Mhm.”

“Pussy spanking?”

“Yeah.”

“Nipple wax play?”

“Depends on the sub’s pain tolerance, but um… yeah.”

“Paddling?”

“I actually haven’t done that one before.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise. 

“No?”

She shakes her head. “None of my doms have ever had one.”

“Doesn’t sound like they were proper doms, then.”

“They’ve all been on the softer side,” Y/N explains shyly. “But… yeah. I guess it’s always something I’ve wanted to try.”

“Is it?” 

She can tell by the way his eyes have darkened, that there’s something wicked stirring in that brain of his. She knows she can put a stop to this now if she wants — he’s her best friend and he wouldn’t care if she ended the conversation here and now. 

But she doesn’t.

Not for a second.

So instead she nods. And she’s completely unsurprised by the next sentence that falls from his lips.

“Do you want to try it now?”

By now, Y/N’s brain is all fuzzy and melty, so she doesn’t even think before she’s nodding her head eagerly. Harry chuckles and closes his laptop, shuffling onto his knees to lean forward and pluck at her bottom lip. A smirk curves at his mouth as she leans into his touch.

“Getting quite desperate on me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, cradling her cheek into his palm. “Get naked for me then and I’ll go get the paddle. No touching while I’m gone.”

Her stomach flips at the domineering tone in his voice. All too quickly, they’ve fallen into their most intimate roles, and Harry’s carrying himself to his bedroom as Y/N continues sitting there, all gooey-eyed and foggy. And maybe he should have expected it when he returns back to the living room a few moments later to see her sprawled out across the length of the couch, her bralette and underwear still on with her fingers tucked beneath the waistband of the fabric.

“Kitten,” Harry all but growls, making Y/N shiver at the pet name, “Are you already disobeying me?”

She hums as she watches him through half-lidded eyes, soft fingertips petting at her pearled clit. His eyes glimpse down at the tented material and he instantly sets the dark red paddle down on the carpeted floor, kneeling between her legs.

“What’s your color?” he breathes, locking a hand around her ankle. Her pussy quivers just from the simple grasp.

“Green,” she answers, “I’ll tell you if anything changes. Safe word is licorice.”

Harry nods, allowing his large hands to float up her legs. They reach the gusset of her sodden underwear and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, snapping the fabric against her swollen pussy.

“Take your hand out of your panties now and I won’t smack your pussy until she’s raw.”

Y/N doesn’t move. In fact, he thinks her circling fingers only quicken.

“I’ll give you one last warning,” he grits out, squeezing the flesh of her thighs, “I’m not a nice dominant. You won’t be able to walk if you keep going against me.”

But of course, her hand stays glued to the bundle of nerves. Instead, she breathes out a sultry response: “Think I could cum like this, having you watch me.”

In a moment, her cotton underwear is being ripped from her body and thrown aside. He’s swift in his movements as he collects her wrists in his palm, squeezing them harshly and throwing them up, high above her body. She gasps, noisy and wet.

“I don’t fuck around with brats like you for a reason.” 

The first spank he issues to her puffy pussy is quick and fleeting, hardly offering a lick of pain. He’s eager to find where her pain threshold lies; if she’s all talk or if she can take the full force of his large palm. By the time he lands the sixth one, her skin now reddening beneath his smacks, he thinks he’s found it and he admits, he’s relatively impressed. 

“Aw, did that one hurt?” Harry mocks, watching as her face twists in an expression of discomfort. “That’s because punishments are meant to be mean. You’re not supposed to enjoy them, little brat. You’ve had it too easy, hm?”

“H-haven’t,” she stutters out, wincing as he delivers a seventh, “I’m good, sir, I swear—”

“Oh, bull-fuckin’-shit,” he retorts. “You’re a silly little brat is what you are.”

“‘m not—”

Smack—

“You are.”

She whines until he reaches the tenth one. She’s a wiggly mess of sniffles and whimpers and he shushes her, brushing a thumb over her clit. She gasps lowly and he laughs.

“On your belly.”

This time, Y/N doesn’t defy him and Harry is admittedly surprised. She buries her face in the throw pillow and he rolls his eyes at the theatrics. Before picking the paddle up off the floor, his blunt fingertips scratch at her scalp, gentle and kind as they trail down to the nape of her neck. 

“What’s your color, kitten?” he asks softly, rubbing a docile palm over her bare ass.

“Green, sir.”

“Do you still want to try the paddle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, “We’ll start with five and then see where you’re at. You know what to say if you want me to stop, right?”

“Red or licorice, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Since it’s her first time, he decides to ease her into it. He uses only a smidgen of his strength to smack the paddle against the thick of her cheek, watching as the wood ricochets. Her skin jiggles in response and he swallows, noting the way her nails already dig into the couch.

The second and third are just as light but he adds a bit more pressure to the fourth and fifth. When he’s finished, he rubs over the flush skin, slow and intentional.

“How was that?” he asks. 

“Good,” she replies, her voice slightly muffled from the pillow, “I can take more.”

A hand quickly finds its way to the back of her neck and her eyes instantly widen. He shifts her head, smushing her cheek into the soft fabric so her voice is no longer dulled. 

“Need to hear you loud and clear,” Harry says. “And now you’ll count for me.”

When the oak paddle makes contact with her ass for the sixth time, she grits her teeth but still calls out the number. She follows suit for the next five and, while it’s painful and harsh in the most uncomfortable of ways, she’d be lying if she said her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. She’s burning for him, feeling her arousal leak down between the apex of her thighs with every last spank. 

“Good job, kitten,” Harry announces, dropping the paddle at the end of the set. “You did good, hm? Did the bratty girl learn her lesson?”

Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in a pout when his soft palms begin to soothe her aching bum. He instantly takes notice, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Can’t give you anymore tonight, kitten. It was only your first time.”

Instead of replying, she simply shakes her head.

“Use your words. I’m not a mindreader, brat.”

Swallowing, she lifts her head up slightly, only enough to give her a peek of Harry’s concerned expression. 

“W-wanna cum,” she mumbles, blinking at him, “Will you make me cum, sir?”

And instead of immediately getting what she wants, Harry does the unthinkable.

He rolls his eyes.

“You act like a slutty brat all night, begging to get paddled, and now you want me to make you cum?” 

She nods, ashamed and embarrassed.

“What the fuck makes you think you deserve that?”

“I-I took my spankings and paddlings without complaining. And I didn’t disobey you a-after that.”

“But you did defy me to begin with, didn’t you?” he pushes, weaving his hand into the hair at the back of her head. His fist tightens and he lifts her head so her neck cranes back. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now you want to cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But not only do you want to cum— you want me to make you cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine then,” he decides, sitting down and leaning back against the couch cushions. “Come here. Straddle me.”

She forces herself onto her knees and ignores the way her ass and pussy both sting from her punishments. Right now, all she can focus on is her buzzing clit and its need for attention. 

She does as she’s told and splits her thighs to fit his own legs between them. Almost instantly, he cups a hand beneath her mouth and glares at her expectantly. 

“Spit, brat. Are you dumb?”

She shakes her head, allowing saliva to pool behind her lips before spitting it into his palm. With his eyes staring into hers, he lowers his spit-slick hand down to her mound and pushes a finger inside of her. Immediately, she clenches around it, her eyes threatening to flutter shut.

“Keep them open,” he instructs, “Jesus, your cunt is already milking me.”

She swallows and forces herself to maintain eye contact with the man sitting before her. He’s merciless in his ministrations, especially when he nestles a second, then a third finger and curls them up to her most sensitive spot. Her hands form tight fists as she grinds against his hand, moaning loudly when his thumb reaches her clit. 

“What a desperate little pussy,” he murmurs, speeding up the tight circles over the swollen bundle of nerves, “You like getting stretched out, don’t you? Say it.”

“I-I love when you stretch me out, sir.”

“Of course you do,” he smirks viciously, “Is your cunt gonna cum like this?”

“Y-yes, sir—”

“Ask for permission first, kitty.”

“Please sir, can I cum? P-please?”

She’s whimpery and mewling as she bounces helplessly on his fingers, the ribbon in her lower stomach threatening to unravel at any given moment. He hums, stilling the digits inside of her.

“Hold it.”

“Sir—”

“Hold it, brat.”

Her pussy clenches around him but she does. She restrains herself until he finally allows the ribbon to come undone, a slew of whines and curses sounding from her plush lips as she does.

It feels like it goes on forever but when the pleasure finally ceases, she collapses into his chest. Harry gently pulls his fingers from her center and wraps an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze. 

He lets her stay like that for a bit and, maybe selfishly, he enjoys having her limp, exhausted body so close to his. 

“Gotta clean you up and rub some salve on your bum,” he finally manages out, ducking down to whisper the words in her ear. 

Tiredly, she nuzzles her head against his shoulder. “Five more minutes?”

He swallows. 

He doesn’t think she’s in her subspace, but he knows she’s sleepy and fuzzy from the mix of pain and pleasure he just instilled on her body.

And so for that, he’ll give her five more minutes.

Six, if she’s lucky.

#writing #harry styles #bffrry #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles filth #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry's house #hs4 #harry's house album #fine line #one direction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles angst #harry styles drabble

[nereidprinc3ss]

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 

Stupid scarf, you think. 

Stupid door. 

Stupid wind. 

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 

You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 

Stupid Lord Byron. 

Stupid cafe. 

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 

“How did you do that?” 

His cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 

He was totally in love with me. 

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 

Spencer. Spencer. 

It feels important. 

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 

Spence. 

Reality sets in. 

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away. 

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 

“Who was that?” 

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 

Adorable? Get a grip. 

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 

So that’s cool. 

You’re cool with that. 

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 

Nah. Boys are dumb. 

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh. 

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard. 

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again. 

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 

But his job is important. 

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm. 

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 

“I would.” 

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles. 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 

He says none of that. 

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird. 

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

pairing: ceo!wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: wanda exploits your weakness for her, and fucks you in her office

content warnings: smut obvi, possessiveness, fingering, thigh grinding, a little bit of choking, slight exhibitionism

word count: 3.3k+

masterlist

Fingers Are My Weakness

‘I miss you, come to my office.’

You smile at your phone, sitting back in your seat as you come up with a response. You quickly turn the brightness down on your screen, fingers typing quickly as you bite your lip slightly. 

“Hey, are you ready to go over some of the procedures?” The voice is slightly grating on your ears, and you quickly delete your response as you lock your screen. Looking up, you see the woman who’s been showing you around all day looking at you with an expectant look on her face. 

Shit, what was her name? 

“Oh! Uh…” You check the time on your phone, noting that the workday had ended for almost everyone else. “Right now? I thought that procedures could wait until tomorrow?”

A condescending smile appears on her face, and you blink in surprise when she starts speaking. “Yeah, right now. It’s typical for newbies to stay late their first few days, just to get you up to speed. That’s ok with you right?”

Your phone dings, the woman’s eyes snap to it. Your fingers tighten around your phone, almost protectively. You huff slightly in annoyance, noticing the way the woman’s eyes linger on your legs, right where your skirt ends mid thigh. 

“Fine, just let me respond to this.”

Looking down, your heart jolts at the message you’d just received. It’s a single word, and sends shivers of nervousness down your spine. 

‘Now.’

Wanda Maximoff was not a woman you wanted to displease. Ever. You'd been on the receiving end of her ire more times than you could count, and although it was always enjoyable, the thought of punishment for disobeying a direct order sent your heart racing. 

The woman - Hailey, you remembered now - moved towards you, her heels clacking on the floor as she pulled a chair next to your desk. You had your phone angled away from her, fingers flying across the keyboard as you tried your best to minimize the punishment you'd surely receive for disobeying. 

‘I’m sorry, I can’t right now. Hailey is going over procedures with me. I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.’

You flip your phone over again, sure that your face is heating up. Your fingers tremble in your lap as you lace them together tightly. Fortunately, Hailey is too focused on not-so-subtly peeking down the front of your low cut shirt to notice your flustered state. You clear your throat, annoyance building as you raise your eyebrows at her. 

Coughing slightly, Hailey pulls out a packet of information and places it in front of you. You flip through the first few pages, groaning internally at the sheer amount of information crammed onto each section. Hailey’s speaking again, her voice high and scratchy. It is nothing like the voice you actually want to hear. 

Just as that thought crosses your mind, your phone dings again, but you force yourself to ignore it. Avoiding eye contact with Hailey, you force yourself to flip to the second page as she drones on. You can practically feel the boredom take over you, your eyes drooping as you relax into your seat. 

Sneaking a glance at your phone, you see that Wanda has sent another message. Suddenly awake, you open your texts and read, your eyes wide. 

‘I thought you wanted to be a good girl?’

Your eyes flick over to Hailey, noticing that she’s now fixating on her laptop, seemingly searching for a specific page in a pdf. You hide your phone between the pages of your packet, typing with one hand while the other nonchalantly rests on the paper. 

‘I am a good girl, just busy rn. I’ll see you later.’

Locking your phone, you try to focus. Hailey’s voice is making your ears bleed, and you constantly find your thoughts wandering to a certain person. More specifically, your girlfriend, who just so happened to be the boss of the current company you worked at. 

A loud noise startled you out of your thoughts, the images of long hair and green eyes fading as you turned to look at Hailey. She snapped her fingers again, right under your nose as your eyes went slightly crossed in an effort to track her movements. 

“Listen, newbie,” She started, her eyes glancing down at your chest. “Just because you’re a personality hire doesn’t mean that you get to slack off, alright?” 

You felt anger rise, your thoughts churning as you glared at her with thinly veiled disgust. You’d actually worked very hard for this job, submitting an application and going through the same interview process as everyone else. Your girlfriend hadn’t actually known that you applied until your resume made its way to her desk along with the other final candidates for the position. 

She’d fucked you in many different positions that night, her praises never ending as you came over and over again. You’d begged her to be fair in the selection process, not wanting to only be hired because she ordered it. Wanda had agreed, saying that she’d refrain from the hiring process altogether for your special case. 

Breathing deeply, trying to calm yourself, you were about to respond to Hailey when your phone buzzed again. 

“Okay, who the fuck is texting you so much.” Hands reach for your phone, but you quickly pull it away. There’s an unimpressed look on Hailey’s face, her palm out as she expectantly glances at your phone. 

You sigh, unlocking your phone to see that Wanda has sent an image along with a message. No way in hell were you letting Hailey see the potential contents of that message. 

“It’s actually our boss.” Your tone is short, your words clipped as you raise a single eyebrow. You pride yourself on mastering your girlfriend’s infamous ‘I’m pissed’ face as Hailey takes in your expression and pales at your words. 

“Wait…” Hailey fumbled her words, trying to remedy the situation. “You have Wanda Maximoff’s phone number?”

You smirk, mindful of how long it's taken you to respond. Any second, Wanda would probably come storming down the hall, wondering what on earth was more important than her. “I do, and I should probably respond soon, don’t you think?”

Hailey waves her hands in a flustered ‘go ahead’ gesture as she ducks her head. You give her one last glance, before angling your phone away and opening the message. 

First you see the photo, an image of Wanda’s fingers splayed out on her desk, contrasting beautifully against the dark wood, her veiny hands catching your attention. You feel yourself flush, nervous butterflies erupting as you glaze at the long fingers and delicate gold rings adorning them. Then, your eyes flit down to the attached message, 

‘Mommy’s fingers miss your pussy, darling. Don’t be a brat.’

You suck in a deep breath, your heart thudding as Hailey looks over at you, craning her neck to try and see your phone. Shooting her a glare, you jolt when another text pings through.

‘If you want to be a good girl, then you can come to my office and suck my fingers. Is she more important than I am?’

You feel lightheaded, and any thoughts of going over procedure with the nosy brunette next to you vanish. You mutter some excuse about how Wanda needed you in her office, and to not wait up for you. Hailey says something, but you wave her off, already packing your bag and walking towards the large doors that lead into Wanda’s office. 

Cursing your girlfriend out in your head, you can’t help the way your thoughts keep returning to that picture of her fingers. You should have known she’d use that against you, and you regretted ever sending her that drunk text. The one where you confessed your obsession with her hands, calling them ‘perfect to suck on’ and telling her you ‘wished she would wrap them around your throat like a necklace’.

Pushing open the heavy door, you make your way inside the dimly lit office. For some odd reason, Wanda didn’t like to use the overhead light, claiming it wasn’t good for her eyes or complexion. You personally didn’t care, as you thought your girlfriend looked good in any lighting. The room smells like vanilla, and the air around you tightens when you finally catch a glimpse of your girlfriend. 

The look on Wanda’s face can only be described as stony. You can tell that she’s upset, only seconds away from unleashing her frustrations upon you, and you waste no time. Setting your bag down near the door and closing it, you quickly walk towards your girlfriend as she slowly moves her chair away from her desk, gesturing for you to sit in her lap. 

You start speaking, your words rapid as you attempt an explanation. “I’m sorry Wanda, I couldn’t get away any sooner. Hailey…” You see a flash of anger in those cold green eyes, and resolve to never mention the girl’s name again. “Um, she was really insistent on going over procedures, and…”

The rambling explanation you’re fumbling through is interrupted by Wanda, her voice holding a dark edge to it as she asks you, “What did you just call me?”

“I’m sorry, mommy.” 

A satisfied look makes its way onto your girlfriend’s face, and you sit on her lap hesitantly. In this position, your face is just inches away from hers, and you can’t help the way your eyes flit down to her lips. 

“Tell me, baby,” Wanda begins, a dangerous look in her eyes as she slowly rolls her chair back towards her desk, trapping you between her and the dark wood. “Does she want what’s mine?”

You bite your lip, knowing that your answer could potentially get Hailey fired. Then, you remember how rude she was and the way her eyes wandered where they shouldn’t have, and the words came rushing out. 

“I mean, yeah. She kept looking down my shirt, and I kept having to tug my skirt down cause her eyes were constantly on my thighs.” The words are quiet, and you watch Wanda carefully for a reaction. Her eyes glint coldly, one of her hands wrapping around your throat as the other digs into your waist. 

“Did she touch you?” 

You can’t help the whimper that escapes you, her sharp words sending a flash of heat through your body. Your clit throbs, and you rush to respond. “No mommy, only you’re allowed to touch me.”

Wanda hums, a small smile appearing on those beautiful lips for a moment. “Good girl.”

“She, um.” You hesitate, Wanda’s hand squeezing your throat tightly at your continued silence. “She also called me a personality hire.”

Green eyes darken, and you know that Hailey will not show up to work the next morning. Or ever again. You try to calm your girlfriend, your hands coming up to cup her cheeks as she looks over your shoulder towards her door, her eyes blazing as different images of Hailey’s wandering eyes worm their way into her possessive brain. 

A whimper sounds out, ringing around the otherwise quiet room as the pressure against your neck becomes too much to handle. Wanda relaxes her grip, pulling her hand away as she leans in. Her lips attach themselves to your throat, her teeth sharp as she sucks dark bruises into your sensitive skin. 

Your moans flow freely, your hands sliding into Wanda’s hair and massaging her scalp as she marks you. When you attempt to roll your hips, needing some friction against your aching core, you find that your waist is thoroughly pinned between Wanda’s body and the desk. 

Long fingers find your lips, and you close your eyes as you wrap your lips around the very thing that you’d been fantasizing about. She presses the digits against your tongue, sliding them in and out of your mouth as you gag slightly, your tongue swirling around them. 

“Are you needy, baby?” Wanda asks after a few minutes, her voice raspy as she finally pulls back from your neck. She can sense your hips attempting to move, and raises an eyebrow at you as you fight to speak around her fingers. After a few moments, she smirks at your pleading look and pulls her fingers out, wiping them on the front of your shirt. 

“Yes, mommy.” You’re breathless, your muscles straining as you fight to keep still against her. 

Wanda smiles wider, rolling back her chair as she nods at you. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Get yourself off on mommy’s thigh.”

You hesitate, wondering if this was a trick. The hand at your waist pushes, and at the feeling of your soaked pussy sliding against her leg, you start moving. Your breaths are shaky, your hands trembling in her hair as you move your hips quickly. 

It doesn’t take long until you’re a moaning mess, your forehead resting on her shoulder as you grind your core against her thigh. You can barely think straight, all your thoughts locked on your impending orgasm as you mindlessly move your hips faster. You feel Wanda’s hand tangle with your hair, and she wrenches your head back. 

Green eyes watch your lips part, a strangled gasp leaving you at the abrupt action. Your hips are still moving, your hands limp around her shoulders as you chase your high. Wanda smiles at the sight of your glossy eyes, soft moans falling from your lips as your wetness spreads on the silky fabric of her pants. 

“Having fun darling?” Wanda’s voice is teasing and you whine. Her tone hardens, her hand squeezing painfully in your hair as she reminds you, “Remember to ask permission to come.”

You know it's a trap, you couldn’t say why, but you knew she wouldn’t give in that easily. Not after you’d ignored her for so long, your attention not solely focused on her. She hated it when someone else caught your attention, and you loved her possessive nature, no matter how much the punishments hurt.

“I want… please, mommy.” You can’t even get out a full sentence, your words broken up by breathy moans. It makes Wanda throb, and she forces your jaw up from where your head had been drooping, wanting those glossy eyes focused on her.

“Touch me,” You begged, your thumb rubbing circles against the back of her neck. “Please touch me mommy, I can’t come without your help.”

This time, it's Wanda who lets out a moan. The sound is low, resonating in her chest as she brings a hand to your pussy. At the first touch of your glistening folds, she’s hooked. She never has been able to resist you, not when you're dripping around her fingers and staring at her with adorably blown pupils. 

“Don’t worry, darling.” Wanda murmurs, letting your head fall against her forehead as she enters you with two fingers, burying them knuckle deep as you whine. “Mommy’s brainless little slut can come however much she wants.”

The words shoot straight to your core, and you know your orgasm is mere seconds away. You frantically press your lips to Wanda’s, sucking and biting as she slips her tongue inside your mouth, deepening the kiss. You attempt to convey your desperation to her, and you think she understands when she nudges your clit with her thumb. 

A few more purposeful touches, and you’re falling apart in her lap. Wanda breaks the kiss, your lips unresponsive as you gasp against her cheek. You shudder, your walls clamping down around her fingers as she continues to thrust into you at a brutal pace. Her fingers curl, and you sense a second orgasm approach while you’re still trembling from the aftershocks of the first one. 

“Wait, mommy. It’s too much, please.” You’re whimpers go unheard, Wanda’s fingers still fucking you deeply as her lips return to your neck. You feel her teeth scrape your collarbone, and another orgasm rips through you when she bites down. 

Your body aches, the sensations overwhelming you in seconds. You’re highly aware of Wanda’s teeth sinking into your collarbone, her lips sucking harshly as you writhe against her. You can feel your juices leaking around her fingers, the once pleasurable heat in your core now agonizingly painful as she slows her thrusts. 

“Mommy…” Your voice is just above a whisper, your breaths shaky as you try and form more words. 

Wanda slips her fingers from you, bringing them up to your parted lips and forcing them into the wet heat of your mouth. She strokes your hair with her other hand, bringing you down as she murmurs, “I know baby, Mommy’s got you.”

Sucking softly, you smile around her fingers dazedly, your eyes slightly unfocused as they bore into Wanda’s. She smiles back, pressing her lips to your forehead, and leaving soft kisses over your damp cheeks as you giggle. 

“Good girl, I’m so proud of you sweetheart. Since you were so good for me, would you like to feel mommy’s strap when we get home?” You nod quickly, your mouth still occupied with her fingers, sucking off your arousal as she watches with darkened eyes. 

Wanda opens her mouth to continue, when a sharp knock on her door stops her. You’re much too hazy to care, all your attention focused solely on your girlfriend. She pulls her fingers from you, kissing you quickly before calling out for the person to enter. 

You jolt, remembering the compromising position you’re in, but strong hands hold your hips still as a warning look appears in Wanda’s eyes. You stare back with wide eyes, and Wanda swivels her chair until she can see the very same employee you’d been complaining about walk in. 

Hailey looks up from the papers in her hand, her eyes widening comically at the sight in front of her. Wanda watches her eyes take in the dark hickeys covering your neck and collarbone, your smudged lipstick and messy hair, before she stammers slightly as she attempts to speak. 

Nothing comes out, her words a strained sort of whimper as her eyes bounce back and forth between Wanda’s satisfied and smug expression, and your submissive, relaxed pose. You look down, an embarrassed flush creeping up the back of your neck as Wanda’s hand rubs soothing circles against your thigh. 

“I’ve heard some interesting things about you.” Wanda says, her words drawn out as she regards the shocked employee standing in her doorway. Hailey’s eyes widen even more than they already are, and she opens and closes her mouth as she tries to find an explanation. 

Wanda tilts her head, and the color drains from Hailey’s face. You shiver, having been on the receiving end of that look before, and you can’t help but pity the poor girl trembling in your girlfriend's doorway. 

“I hope you’ve learned a valuable lesson today,” Wanda begins, her voice low as she grabs your jaw, tilting your head up so Hailey can see the full extent of your hickeys. “That you shouldn’t lust over something that isn’t yours.”

Hailey nods her head so quickly that it looks seconds away from falling off. Wanda waves her hand impatiently, a silent order for the girl to get out of her office. She takes a final look at you as she turns to leave, her eyes apologetic and wide as she grips the papers tightly in her fist, the edges wrinkling under her fingers. 

“By the way,” Wanda begins, stopping Hailey in her tracks. “You’re fired.”

You barely hear the door close, your eyes wide as you turn towards your girlfriend. You can’t help the small smile that appears on your face, your pussy clenching around nothing at the power she’d just shown. 

It’s almost as if Wanda has a sixth sense for you, her senses attuned to your body as if you shared a soul. She drops her eyes to your thighs, smirking as you gently grind down against the dark fabric of her pant leg. A single finger places itself under your chin, and you let your head raise as her green eyes bore into your own.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you plenty of orgasms once we get home.”

You can’t fucking wait.

Part Two: The Ultimate Weakness

#wanda maximoff #wanda fanfic #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #dom!wanda #marvel #mcu #ceo!wanda #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda marvel #wanda mcu #wanda maximoff au #wanda x you #wanda x y/n

[fushigowo]

𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 | 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

⇢ ˗ˏˋ PAIRING: gojo satoru x fem!reader

⇢ ˗ˏˋ SYNOPSIS: the aftermath of yours and gojo satoru’s midterm essay and how your relationship came to existence. contrary to popular belief, gojo satoru is actually the sweetest jerk of a boyfriend you’ve ever had.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ WARNINGS: none!! just some cute fluff and suggestive themes <3

⇢ ˗ˏˋ NOTE: i have finally awaken from my peaceful century of slumber, resurrecting amidst the fog from the land of the dead, and bringing back the fluffiest, tooth-aching, heart-warming set of fluff i have ever written.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ PART I | PART II

1. The midterm essay was a success. However, Gojo Satoru noticed that something is wrong.

You and Satoru were able to score a high grade in your midterms for literature class. It was amazing how the two of you managed to finish a ten-page essay regarding the social context of Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck. However… during the week of working on the essay, of course there were some… other sessions that Satoru initiated.

During the entire week, you felt like you had lost your ability to walk and you’re not even exaggerating.

“You okay, sweetheart? I didn’t overdid it this time, right?” Satoru asks as he puts his shirt on while sitting on the edge of your bed.

“I’m literally struggling to walk right now, Satoru.” You stare at him in disbelief.

“Oops, my bad!”

But that being said, the entire week was a blast for both you and Satoru. Not only you’ve been fucked several times by your beloved, you also earned a high grade from your literature professor and was able to help Satoru in LIT 2000.

After the midterm week, Satoru noticed that you’re back to being the shy quiet student who rarely participates in class again. You’ve also been ignoring him after the week. The white-haired man couldn’t help but feel unsettled about your actions. Because why would you avoid him when you like him so much? And to Satoru, being ignored by the person he admires and likes is no different from being stabbed right through the chest.

Why were you being so distant from him all of the sudden? Why were you ignoring him like you didn’t just spend the entire week together?

Satoru knows that something is wrong so he decided to disturb you when you were studying in the library.

You were busy studying for a test when a loud voice called you from afar; a voice that you knew too well.

When you raised your head to stare at him, the other people in the library were staring daggers at him. Satoru makes his way towards you, ignoring the other students and even the librarian. The white-haired man stops in front of your table and sits across where you’re sitting.

“Hey, sweets,” he smiles. “What are you doing?”

“Studying…?” you said, as if it wasn’t obvious. “Why are you here, Satoru?”

“The question is why are you ignoring me?”

You let out a sigh and ignored his question. You close your laptop and pack your pens and notebooks but Satoru suddenly grip your wrist, making you look at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What is it, Satoru?” you ask, trying not to make your voice loud enough for everyone else to hear. “Look, let’s not discuss it here.”

“Fine. Take me somewhere more private.”

And that’s how you end up being eaten out by Gojo Satoru in the most secluded part of the library after explaining why you’ve been avoiding him.

2. Gojo Satoru remembers the little details.

After a tiring week, Satoru came busting in your library work to free you from the stress that you’ve been dealing with since… well, since forever, he thinks. But now, he’s here to alleviate your stress (and back pain).

Satoru had plans of dragging you out from your library work but he had to wait for you to finish since library work is an important part of your schedule. After that, he finally drags you out of campus to try the new dessert shop that had recently opened.

“I know you’re fond of sweets because it relieves your stress,” he smiles at you before holding your hand and enters the small shop. “I had to explore places that serve desserts near the campus so I can treat you. Oh, and you definitely deserve a treat after a stressful week.”

Oh… he remembers my rambles during aftercare.

Your heart races rapidly inside your chest, cheeks start to heat at the sweet gesture of Satoru. Like he predicted, the weight on your back of carrying loads of responsibilities and stress was suddenly lifted. It was amazing how Satoru was able to understand you more than you understand yourself. He knows what to say, what to do, and what not to do to lighten your mood.

Contrary to popular belief that Gojo Satoru is a cheating fuckboy, he is actually the opposite. Every one in the campus just see him as one because of how he constantly flirts with every girl he sees. In your defense, you think Satoru is just being nice to them. The nicknames are actually what gives it. He told you that he just likes calling everyone with the nicknames he gives.

“Sooooo… how is it? It’s good, right?” he smiles.

“Yeah. So good.” you smile back.

“You got something on your nose,” he says.

“Hmm? Where?”

“Here!” he yells before coating the tip of your nose with chocolate ice cream.

3. Gojo Satoru understands how your mind works.

You are anxious.

And Satoru can see it.

Sitting on top of the rooftop of your apartment building, you stare at the cityscape with your arms wrapped around your legs and chin on top of your knees. Satoru sits down next to you and asks what’s wrong but you didn’t answer and just continue to stare at nothing.

“Alright. Tell me what’s in your mind, sweetheart,” he says. “Something’s bothering you, obviously.”

“I’m just… I’m scared, Satoru,” you whisper, still not looking at him because of how pathetic you feel. “I’m scared of what might come. I don’t know how things will be for me after I graduate. Like, I know I have plans—big plans—but what if… what if I didn’t—what if I didn’t get to do all those plans? What will happen to me then? What will happen to me if I didn’t get to live the life that I wanted? If I didn’t get to become the person that I wanted to be?”

When you finally had the courage to look at him, your eyes are blurred with hot tears, making Satoru’s eyes soften at your current state.

Satoru doesn’t understand why but he likes it when you’re vulnerable around him. He likes it when you’re not scared of telling him what you really feel and what goes inside your head. Because a person like you, who rarely opens up to anyone in their life, means that you trust him enough to tell these things and to be vulnerable around him.

“I’m sorry, Satoru. I shouldn’t have said tha—”

“Thanks for telling me that, sweetheart.” he smiles before cupping your cheeks, his thumb rubs your soft skin, as if his hands are touching the most delicate flower that he has ever laid hands on, afraid of breaking its petals and ruining its beauty. But Satoru, no matter which state you are in, you are still the prettiest in his eyes.

“I know the future can be… shit and unpredictable but y’know, that’s kinda the exciting part of it. It’s full of… unexpected things; full of surprises; full of ups and downs. But one thing that I’m sure at is you will definitely be the person that you want to be. And right now, you’re doing everything you can to have the future that you want,” he says. “It’s okay to be anxious, sweetheart. Trust me when I say this, you will get the things you want and desire because you work so hard for it. Even if you didn’t get all of what you want, I’ll be by your side to help you. Even if you feel like what you did wasn’t enough, I’ll be by your side to tell you that it’s more than enough, okay? You are more than enough. Now come here and give me a hug.”

You smile at him as you sniff and wipe your tears away before giving him a tight hug. Satoru kisses your forehead.

And what seems like a dream is actually a moment in reality.

4. Gojo Satoru is your biggest supporter and your number one fan.

Upon sitting on your desk in LIT 2000, your professor called your name for you to recite the earlier discussions regarding your lesson last meeting, which was African American Literature. Recently, Satoru has been participating more and more in class which was because of you.

He figured that if his girl is the smartest student in class, then he’d better step up and level your intelligence. Everyone else were surprised except you and your professor. The both of you know damn well that Satoru is a smarter than he looks. But Satoru’s recent constant participation burned something inside you. Every time he speaks, he would look at you with a smirk on his face. It was as if he was taunting you.

Ever since you and Satoru would do your study routine together, his grades were over the top and his participation started to become consistent. Of course you wouldn’t let your smartass boy take the number one rank in literature class from you.

“Yes, Mr. Gojo? Would you like to share your—”

“I would like to answer it, professor.” you raise your hand, surprising the others as well as Satoru.

When you finally stand up from your seat, all eyes are on you as you answer the professor’s question. But it was then followed by another question and another question, and you figured that your professor is definitely taking her time asking you all those questions to make up for the ones that you didn’t answer because of your… shyness. As you answer every question she throws at you, the smile on Satoru’s glossy lips becomes wider and wider as this is the first time he has witnessed you talk in full confidence.

“Yes! That’s my girl!” his loud voiced echoes in the entire classroom, which made you hide your face from your professor and the others because of how… embarrassing that was.

When you finally sit back down, you look over your shoulder and made a face, asking ‘what the fuck was that?’. But Satoru just smiles widely at you and gave you a thumbs up.

You couldn’t help but to smile back at him and give him a thumbs up.

5. Gojo Satoru finally unmasked himself in front of you.

It was the worst of times of Satoru.

However, everyone was oblivious to that thought. Well, almost everyone. To them, Satoru remains the same goofy person that he is even after… losing someone so important to him. To them, Satoru is a big asshole. Why? A big asshole for not even shedding a tear even after losing someone important to him. A big asshole for not reacting the way a normal person would react to a loved one’s death.

How did Satoru react?

Laughing and shrugging everything off. Showing no signs of tears nor sympathy. He just fucking shrugs it off.

“Oh, yeah that! I’m not thinking about it too much, y’know? I’ll eventually get over it!” he smiles. “People come and go after all.”

And people would say to him: “How can you be so insensitive?”

To everyone, Gojo Satoru is a rude, insensitive jerk.

Well, almost everyone.

“Satoru?” you call out. “You can talk to me. I’m right here. I’ll listen.”

Satoru’s back is facing you and you notice how he wiped something off from his face and sniffed before turning around for you to see a wide smile on his face as if he’s not falling apart. His red yet pretty eyes says otherwise.

“Hey, sweetheart! What are ya doing here? Went to see me for a kiss?”

“Satoru,” you mumble. You are definitely not amused. “Stop it.”

“Stop what—”

“Stop whatever this is,” you say. “You keep putting on these faces to make everyone see that you’re okay or unaffected by these events but I know that you’re falling apart, Satoru.”

Satoru’s smile slowly disappear from his face as he continues to listen to you.

“You can cry in front of me. You can tell me what’s in your mind. You can let yourself out of that… that façade of yours and just fall apart just this once.” This time you look at him straight in the eyes. “I just don’t want you to go through this alone, Satoru. I’m here. Let me carry the weight of grief with you.”

And then, Gojo Satoru fell apart… but this time, you were there to pick him back up.

Satoru wraps his arms around you. His legs start to wobble, making him fall down on the concrete along with you. Even though his face is buried on your chest and his arms wrapped around your back, you can tell that Satoru is crying because of his quiet whimpers and sniffs.

“It’s okay, Satoru,” you whisper as you caress his pearl white hair. “I’m here.”

“I lost him,” he whispers, accompanied by whimpers and hiccups. “My best friend… the only one I had…”

For the first time, Gojo Satoru finally unmasked himself in front of you.

6. Gojo Satoru has interesting ways to claim that you are his.

Satoru had invited you in their fraternity party.

It wasn’t the first time that you’ve been in these kinds of party. Your best friend invited you to come with her before but that was the last time you went to one because of how uncomfortable it was for you. Your best friend told you that she’ll stay by your side the entire night but once the both of you had entered the party, she was already chugging down some beers and partying with the other students, leaving you no choice but to sit and hide in the corner.

But this time, you had trust in Satoru that he’ll never leave your side because you already told him why you don’t come to these kinds of parties anymore.

Now, you’re sitting next to Satoru, talking to some of his friends and some freshmem that tagged along. The freshmen—Kugisaki Nobara, Itadori Yuuji, and Fushiguro Megumi—are actually fun and nice to hangout with.

This is the first time that you’ve enjoyed a party.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Satoru leans closer to your ear for you to hear. “I’ll go grab us another beer. Don’t talk to anyone you don’t know, ‘kay? I’ll be right back,” he says before kissing your temple and stands up from where he’s sitting.

After a few minutes of waiting for Satoru, you felt uneasy so you left your seat to go look for him. Since he was getting drinks, you figured he'd be somewhere in the kitchen where you encountered someone you don’t know. The guy was probably drunk since he can’t seem to walk straight and has a bottle of beer in his hands.

“Hey, pretty, what are you here for?” he asks, making you back away.

“Uh—I’m just—I’m looking for my—”

“Hey, sweetheart! What’re you doing here? I got us some drinks!”

Hearing your boyfriend’s voice made the fear and panic jump out of you. When you saw him through the doorway, you immediately sprint towards him and wrap your arms around his waist.

“And I thought she’d be available in bed,” the guy mumbles, making Satoru furrow his eyebrows and the next thing you knew, the guy was beaten up pretty badly and your boyfriend was kicked out of the party and the two of you spent the night driving around the city, looking for the perfect spot of the city lights where you and your boyfriend can feel like you’re on top of the world.

7. Gojo Satoru loves your drunken state.

When you told Satoru that you’d be out drinking with your friends, he asked each and every one of them to text him if you ever get drunk. He doesn’t want you to take an uber or have your friends take you home, he wants to be the one doing that so he is sure that you are completely safe.

And that’s what your friends did.

When you finished two bottles of beer, you were a complete mess and god knows how much of a mess you are when you’re drunk as hell. The moment that your friends realized that you need to be taken home is when you started to cry about how much you miss your boyfriend and kept asking why your friends took him away from you.

So when Satoru got to the street where he’s supposed to meet up with your friends and you, he didn’t know what he was seeing. You were throwing up in a trash bin like you’re about to transform into a fucking werewolf.

“How many did she drink?” he asks.

“Five. She was… enjoying,” one of your friends replies.

“I can see that,” he chuckles before taking you in his arms. “How worse was it?”

“Not worse than before. All she did was cry and whine. Anyways, our ride will be here soon. Take good care of her, Gojo. We trust you.”

“Yep. Thanks for looking after her!”

Satoru waves to your friends as they get inside the car then turns his gaze on you, clinging onto him like a koala holding onto a tree.

“All right, sweetheart. Let’s go home, yeah?”

Oh, you were drunk as fuck, alright. You can barely even walk so Satoru decided to carry you like a newly wedded wife. But your sniffs and whimpers stop him in his tracks to check up on you.

“You okay, babe?” he asks. You nod and wiggle yourself to get out of Satoru’s grasp to make yourself walk. You told him you can, so he let you. Now you’re wiggling and can’t even walk a straight line while your boyfriend chuckles from behind.

“All right, that’s enough,” he says before holding you again.

Satoru cages you closer in his embrace, feeling your warmth and breathing the scent of alcohol in you. But your instincts suddenly kick in, so you shoved Satoru over before yelling, “I have a boyfriend, mister! His name’s Satoru and he’s gonna beat you up if you touch me!”

“Oh? Who’s your boyfriend again?” Satoru tries his best not to laugh.

“Gojo Satoru. And he’s not gonna be my boyfriend anymore after this,” you say.

“Why not?” Satoru raises an eyebrow.

“Because I’m gonna propose to him and ask him to marry me so he can be my husband,” you chuckle. “So don’t touch me! I need to go home to him!”

Satoru lets out a laugh, almost loud enough to echo in the quiet streets an hour after midnight. His shoulders shaking up and down as he amuses himself at the things you were saying in your drunken state.

No wonder you don’t drink much when you’re out with Satoru. You don’t want him to see you in your drunken state yet this is a side of you that Satoru wants to see. Yes, he knows you’re an introverted woman who is secretly a very horny one yet comfortable when it comes to people she’s close with, but this is something that Satoru has not yet seen. He doesn’t know if he’s going to record you or just let this be a memory in his mind. He chuckles to himself and figured that this is something that only he knows and he witnessed.

“Oh, that won’t happen, sweetheart!” Satoru hugs you behind your back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Why not? Is he dating another person? Would he say no if I propose to him? What if he says he doesn’t want me to be his wife?! What if—”

“No! That’s not what I mean,” he chuckles. “That’s not gonna happen because… Satoru will propose to you first. He will ask you to be his wife and if you say yes, the two of you will have a cozy home and a sweet, little family, full of small Gojos and a pet too.”

“You think he’s gonna propose to me?” you ask.

“Oh, he definitely will,” Satoru smiles before wrapping his arms around you again to take you to his car. “Now let’s take you to Satoru.”

8. Gojo Satoru loves hearing you read to him.

Aftercare with Satoru is almost similar as being in heaven. His kisses, his rambles, his praises, the way he takes care of you, the way he whispers sweet nothings to you is the same as floating on Cloud Nine.

But this time, you wanted to be the one to take care of him, too.

“I love you so much, baby,” he whispers before kissing your temple. “I’ll make you a hot bath, okay?”

Just when he was about to stand up, you call out to him, making Satoru look over his shoulder.

“You can just stay here with me, ‘Toru. Let’s stay in bed for a while, please?”

And how can he say no when you’re giving him those doe eyes that he can’t resist?

So when you told him to get back on the sheets, Satoru didn’t hesitate to do so. With a large smile on his lips, your white-haired boyfriend settles himself on the bed, his arms wrapped around your back and his face rested on your chest, you being the big spoon and him, the little spoon.

“Read to me, angel,” he whispers. “Wanna hear your voice.”

“Okay,” you chuckle. You stretch your arm to get the book on the nightstand on your side of the bed. “Where did we stop—Ah, here.” You settle yourself wrapping your other arm around Satoru will the other holds the book.

You clear your throat before reading, “‘I want to make Romeo jealous. I want the dead lovers of the world to hear our laughter, and grow sad. I want a breath of our passion to stir their dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain.’” As you read the passage from Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray, your fingers caress Satoru’s soft, white hair while the man feels himself slowly drifting to a peaceful sleep.

“YN?” he calls out.

“Hmm?” you hum in a low tone.

“I’m so glad we got partnered at that midterm essay.”

You chuckle before leaning closer to him. “I’m glad too, ‘Toru…”

9. Gojo Satoru gets along with your cat very well.

“Tada!”

“Uh, babe? What am I looking at?”

“His name’s Tooru! With double O’s!” You smile as you hold your white, Persian cat by its armpits, showing its full glory to your boyfriend. “He’s so white and fluffy and he reminds me of you, so I named him Tooru but it’s spelled with double O’s.” You nuzzle Tooru in your embrace while your boyfriend processes what’s happening.

Did you just replace him with a cat?

“Did you just replace me with a cat?”

You didn’t answer him. You didn’t even bother looking at him since you’re too busy baby-talking your new cat, Tooru. Satoru can’t deny that Tooru isn’t cute. In fact, he is the most adorable cat he has seen, but the now that you’re giving attention to your cat rather than him, he couldn’t help but be—

“…jealous? Satoru, are you jealous of Tooru?” you ask, almost bursting out in a laugh.

“So what if I am?” he pouts. “You obviously love him more than me! You only had him for, like, 4 hours and you have me for three years!”

“Come on, don’t be so immature, Satoru!” you chuckle. “Tooru deserves much as love as you get. Oh, and can you play with him for a while? I’ll make us dinner!”

You stand up and kiss Satoru on his cheek then kiss your cat all over his face before heading toward the kitchen. When you finally disappeared from Satoru and Tooru’s sight, your white-haired boyfriend glances at your cat like it’s about to steal the love of his life—which he actually thinks is happening right now.

The bored expression of your cat’s face as it stares into Satoru’s cerulean blue eyes makes him even more pissed because what are the odds that the cat has the same color of eyes as his? Your cat is the cat version of Satoru and he hates it because he is the only Gojo Satoru in your life. Immature, yes, but almost nothing is ever taken maturely by your boyfriend.

But since you came to love Tooru so much (but not much than you love him, Satoru thinks), he realizes that it would make you happy if he gets along well with your cat.

“Fine.” Satoru sighs. “Hi, Tooru! Aren’t you adorable?” your white-haired boyfriend attempts to caress Tooru’s soft fur but was taken aback and shrieked when Tooru’s claws swiftly attacked Satoru’s hand.

“Shit! What the fuck, Tooru!”

“What happened?” you run from the kitchen to the living room only to see your boyfriend’s arms crossed and your cat curled up at the corner as if a father is scolding at his child.

“Babe, Tooru just—”

“Oh, my poor baby.” You didn’t take a glance at Satoru and made your way to Tooru to caress him in your arms and pull him in a hug. “Satoru, you know better than to yell at our child! He’s just a kid!”

“Are you serious right now?”

It’s been weeks since Tooru came home with you and since then, he has been ruining yours and Satoru’s relationship. It’s as if the cat has a manipulative mind of its on to sabotage Satoru. And every time Tooru successfully does so, Satoru swears that his cute, little tongue sticks out to mock your white-haired boyfriend.

Now, you’re packing your bags to go visit your family for a few days. Satoru has to stay since he’s finishing his graduate studies in Language and Literature so your boyfriend has no choice but to stay with your cat that he cannot get along with.

“Alright, Tooru, your mom’s gone which means I’m in charge.”

For the next few days, Tooru has done nothing but mess with Satoru. But it wasn’t until your white-haired boyfriend finally figured something out when he bought a laser. He read somewhere that cats can be played and tamed with lasers and catnips and a ball of yarn so that’s what he did.

Satoru realizes that you cut Tooru’s claws before going so he won’t get a chance to claw him out. The more Satoru gets closer to Tooru, the more Tooru gets comfortable with him. So when your boyfriend thought it was time to buy another bed for Tooru, he bought the most expensive one since he thinks your cat will soften with him if he buys something expensive.

But that wasn’t until the package finally arrived but then Tooru decided to make the box of the package to be his shelter instead of the expensive one that Satoru bought.

“God, what would I do with you, you little devil.” Satoru chuckles then rubs Tooru’s head before picking him up in his arms. Satoru sits on the couch and opens the TV, your cat is now purring on his stomach. “Heh, your mom will be home for another hour now. And, you won’t be staying in our room for the night.”

After spending the night waiting for you while watching TV, Satoru fell asleep with Tooru still purring on his stomach, leaving the TV open. The dim light of the screen is the only source of light surrounding the apartment but it wasn't until you open the door and flick the light switch on. You were greeted by a sleeping Satoru and Tooru so you had to hold your excitement back in order to not wake them up.

My boys are so cute!

You cheer before taking a picture.

Needless to say, you had the photo put in a picture frame.

10. Gojo Satoru realizes that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Satoru stirs awake from his sleep, his eyes start scanning the room, still engulfed with darkness with no rays of sunlight coming from the windows. The white-haired man glances at his sides to check the digital clock next to him, sitting on the nightstand. It’s already ten minutes past 3AM.

His gaze travels back to your side of the bed. There you were, so deep in a peaceful slumber as you lay on your sides, facing Satoru. He pulls the sheets of the bed up to your chest before letting out a soft chuckle. Satoru knew you were tired as hell after last night’s session since he couldn’t control himself.

His slender fingers caress your soft cheeks, your warmth traveling to his fingertips like lightning striking the grounds of the earth that sends shivers down his spine. Satoru leans in closer to you and gives you a delicate, gentle kiss on your forehead, his lips feels like petal gently touching the ground as he gives you his kisses.

“I love you,” he whispers.

Gojo Satoru couldn’t help but look forward for tomorrow and rest of the days, of the months, of the years that he will be spending with you soon. He looks forward to waking up every morning when the first thing he will be seeing is your face, he looks forward to spending peaceful days with you and Tooru, and he looks forward to spending the rest of his life with you.

From the moment Gojo Satoru enters your life, his goal from the very start was to marry you, and that’s what he’s going to do.

FUSHIGOWO © 2023 | REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED ♡

#jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo x reader #gojo fanfic #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru

[lots-of-pockets]

Braids

Pairing: Nat x you

Words: 1100

Warnings: none

Summary: You and Natasha had only been together for a few weeks when you ask to braid her hair.

Notes: Yikes. It’s been a while. I’m so sorry. I hope this cute fic makes up for it.

The atmosphere was almost peaceful as both you and Natasha lounged on separate sides of the couch. You were idly watching her from the corner of her eye as she focuses on the laptop screen in front of her, hands distractedly flickering through the pages of the book you were planning on starting.

She was clad in one of your hoodies along with a pair of grey shorts; her hair down and a little mused from the way she would continuously run her hand through it. You often found yourself wondering if it was as soft as it looked. How soft it would feel in between your fingers.

You see, you and Natasha had only been together a little over four weeks, so the tentative relationship you did have was still very new. You'd held hands once or twice. Kissed a few times more. Chaste pecks that never trailed off into anything more. But that was it. No hugs had been given, and you'd yet to know how it felt to hold her body against your own.

Though you longed to hold her in your arms, you found that you didn't quite mind waiting. Good things come to those who wait after all. Well, that and the fact you knew months before you'd started dating that she was a very guarded person, and that wasn't going to change just because the label on what you were was different.

"I can feel you watching me, you know." You hear her speak, and your eyes flicker away from her hair to her face. Her eyes, you notice, remain on her computer screen, but the tiny smile present on her lips does not go amiss.

You sigh contently as you turn in your seat to face her, your back now pressed against the arm of the couch whilst your legs sprawl out in front of you. "Just admiring." You admit, your voice a mere murmur.

Natasha's fingers still on the keyboard of her laptop as her eyes finally meet your own. The emotion in them was undecipherable, just like always, but they do soften at the sight of you sitting before her. You couldn't help but melt slightly at the sight as you reach over to the coffee table and set down the book you never did get the chance to open.

Eyes once again meeting her own, you finally bring yourself to ask the question that had been on the forefront of your mind since you'd sat down.

"Can I braid your hair?"

You brace yourself for the rejection, but much to your dismay, it doesn't come. At least, not straight away. Natasha simply stares at you, mouth slightly agape as though she was attempting find a plausible answer to your question.

She clears her throat, eyes flickering away from you for just a moment before they return.

"Braid my hair?" She seems to finally find her voice, the sound of it alone making your heart race.

You nod, swallowing the sudden tightness in your own throat. Natasha stares at you for a little moment longer before she nods. It was just once, almost unnoticeable, but it was all the confirmation you needed. With more confidence than you felt, you let one of your legs fall to the floor and pat the now open space in between them.

Natasha hesitates for only a second before she was setting down her laptop and scooting herself towards you. As she settles, you place your hands on either side of her waist in a silent question. It was only when she nods again do you tug her backwards just slightly, the insides of your thighs now settled snuggly on either side of her hips.

"Good?" You question in a mere murmur, and she vocalises her agreement with a soft hum as your hands begin combing through her hair. It wasn't necessarily tangled, but you didn't want to accidentally snag any loose strands like you tended to do with your own hair. Soon, you'd parted the top her hair into three thin strands in preparation to start the intended dutch braid.

A comfortable silence seems to settle upon you, and you can't help but smile softly when you feel Natasha's hands rest almost tentatively on each of your thighs. You risk a gentle kiss against the back of her head, immediately rewarded by the feeling of her body relaxing completely against you.

"Nearly done." You reluctantly break the silence as your fingers begin to quickly finish the braid, and Natasha hums in acknowledgment as you grab the hair tie off of your wrist and secure it with ease. As you bring your now unoccupied hands back down to your lap, you watch as one of Natasha's own rises to feel the top of her head. It lingers for just a second before a satisfied hum escapes her lips.

"Dutch?" She questions knowingly, and you smirk slightly as you nod your head and place another kiss to the back of her head.

"Good guess." You muse, and Natasha looks back at you with a smirk of her own.

"It wasn't a guess." She tells you simply as her head settles against your shoulder.

"You're just that good huh?" You tease, craning your head slightly to you were more or less face to face with her.

"Damn right." Natasha smirks as she leans forward to affectionately graze the tip of her nose against your cheek, the appendage scrunching up cutely when you press a gentle kiss to it, and you roll your eyes fondly as your arms settle around her waist.

Tight enough for her to feel secure, but loose enough that should she choose leave your arms, she could do so without issue.

Your heart races when Natasha settles her hands atop of your own, choosing wisely to ignore the way they tremble slightly with what you could only assume was nerves. Instead, you simply press your lips against her forehead hoping to alleviate whatever fear may be there.

"Nobody likes a smart ass." You murmur as you pull away.

"No?" Natasha grins slyly as she turns herself in your arms so she was more or less cradled. You accept the change of position with ease, keeping one of your arms beneath her whilst the other loops around her stomach to meet the other that had come to rest on her hip. "You like me."

You sigh heavily in fake exasperation, "Unfortunatel-Hey! What was that for?!"

**

I hope you enjoyed 😊

#natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #fluff #marvel #black widow

[thef1diary]

Picture Perfect | D. Ricciardo

Summary: Daniel loves taking photos of you on his new camera, however, some of them aren't meant for his Instagram.

Warnings: 18+ mentions of smut

Word Count: 1.2k

Pairing: daniel x fem!reader

When Daniel showed you the new camera he bought, and told you his idea to start a photography page, you didn't expect him to take the camera everywhere. You weren't complaining though. You loved watching him focus completely on taking a perfect picture.

If you two didn't spend the day together, when he would return home, he would show you all the pictures he took. And damn, there were a lot of photos. His reasoning was "you never know which one turns out to be the best".

There was a selection of photos that Daniel took but decided to keep for himself. Even though he would sneak in a photo of you every time he's posted so far, there was a growing collection of photos of you that he wanted to keep private.

It started when he took you out on a date and decided to bring his camera with him. Although he didn't bring it out during dinner, he started taking photos of you when you were walking in front of him. He called out your name and snapped a photo right as you looked back at him. Then you started to pose for him, making weird faces because he would laugh at them, and you loved hearing him laugh.

You started to make bolder decisions. One time, when you two were at home and he was working on his laptop, you decided to change into more risqué clothing. Putting on a robe above your outfit, you joined him.

He was sitting on the desk facing away from you. Walking up to him, you placed your hands on his shoulders. "You've been working for hours" you complained. He didn't look back at you but held your hand for a short moment to place a kiss on your knuckles. "I know baby, just a little while longer" he replied, not knowing what you were planning.

You placed a kiss on his cheek which made him think you were leaving. Instead of leaving, you lightly kissed his neck, moving lower to the space of bare skin that was showing. "I think you deserve a break" you muttered and you saw the goosebumps rise on his neck. He didn't break until you made marks on his neck which made him immediately turn around to face you. Daniel saw your outfit, or at least the robe that was covering your outfit and his eyes widened. "I think I do"

He held his arms open for you and you sat in his lap. Daniel's hands immediately went to caress your thigh as you pressed your lips to his. He didn't waste time picking you up and heading to your shared bedroom. He dropped you on the bed and saw how your robe was not as tight as you wrapped it, which slightly revealed the lingerie you wore underneath. He closed his eyes and groaned "I think this break is going to last longer than I thought" he commented.

"Let's be honest, there was no way you'd go back to work after this so-called break" you retorted which made him shake his head with a smile on his face.

His eyes spotted the camera that was sitting on the shelf in the corner of the room and he looked back at you. Before you saw where his eyes were focused, he walked to grab the camera and returned. Daniel raised his eyes in question, asking if you'd be comfortable to do what he was suggesting. You knew that if you denied, he would listen to you but you didn't deny him.

Sitting up on your knees, you posed for the camera. After you heard the camera shutter click a few times, you untied your robe leaned forward. This caused Daniel to stop for a moment and he just stared at you. "Baby, you're staring" you pointed out the obvious. "No, I'm admiring. You look amazing" he spoke when he regained his senses.

He walked closer to you, placing one hand on your cheek as he snapped photos with his other hand. His thumb caressed and pulled your bottom lip lower. You opened your mouth and took his thumb into your mouth, lightly sucking on it.

Daniel placed the camera on the bed for a moment before taking off your robe. Trailing both his hands up and down your body, he hooked his finger into your bra strap and pulled it down your shoulder. Instead of going back to the camera just yet, he strongly kissed you. Your hand trailed down his back, marking it with your nails while his hand travelled up in your hair, slightly tugging on it.

You were out of breath by the time he pulled away but you gasped as soon as he sucked on the side of your neck, creating marks. The thought of him marking you before taking more pictures made you impatient.

Once he stepped away, you unclasped your bra and covered your breasts with one of your arms while the other hand was up in your hair. Daniel kept clicking away, capturing the lust shown in your eyes.

You moved your arm away and he was blown away by the bold moves you were making. He knew how much you trusted him, and he would do anything to keep these photos away from everyone else. These were just for him.

A few more minutes passed and you removed your panties and were on your hands and knees. As much as you loved this photo session, you were quite frustrated because Daniel wasn't done yet. You wanted, no, needed him so badly.

"If you don't come take care of me now, I'll do it myself" you warned him and began to make yourself comfortable to do just what you told him. Instead of moving quickly like you'd expect him to, he raised an eyebrow at you. "Is that so? Do you really think you could please yourself like I do?" He put the camera to the side and walked towards you. You had your legs resting in front of you and he immediately spread them apart.

Daniel trailed his fingers from your ankle to your thigh, not going to the one place you want him to. "What do you want?" He asked as if it wasn't obvious enough.

"You"

Apparently he liked the way you responded because his fingers were quick to spread your folds and collect the wetness. He didn't know you were that desperate and ready for him, and he almost felt bad for teasing you. Almost.

The camera was long forgotten until the end where you were half asleep due to how well he fucked the energy out of you. He snapped a photo of you in a blissed state because he wanted to remember this moment when he looked back at these pictures.

He transferred the photos to his phone and made a private album for the days that you wouldn't be together. Needless to say, he used those photos to get himself off during race week. Especially on the days where he didn't want to disturb your sleep due to the weird time zone differences. But he would tell you all about it the next day. You had already planned to do this again when he comes home.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fandom #f1blr #formula 1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 smut #thef1diary fic

[erwinsvow]

i feel like bitchy reader is definitely bossy and demanding and a total princess but in private she’s sweet (still has that bad princess attitude😭) with rafe. like he gets her to a level where she softens.

omg! you get them! ♡

sprawled on rafe's bed with your open magazines and a bottle of pink nail polish—despite how many times rafe had told you to not bring that shit onto his bed—you've made yourself comfortable.

balancing your phone to your ear, you fan your nails with your other hand. one of your friends is on the other line, he can tell you're fed up with whoever it is, even more than usual, by the way you talk to her.

rafe walks in and watches the scene in front of him while you observe your nails and flip another page, dog-earing something that's caught your eye, something he's gonna be buying you soon if you don't buy it yourself first.

"who is it?" he mouthes when you finally look up.

"your stupid sister," you say back at a normal volume, not even blocking the speaker or muting yourself.

"hey! i heard that-" his sister's voice comes through the speaker.

"yeah, i meant you to," you reply, blowing on your nails.

"y'know she's downstairs, right?" rafe asks, though you don't answer, just roll your eyes while you ignore him and continue your conversation.

"anyways, stop chasing people. especially people lower than you. it's embarrassing, sarah."

"stop calling john b 'lower people'!"

"tell him to stop behaving like lower people then. it's not that hard. or maybe you should up your standards."

though he's a little confused by what you're saying, rafe goes back to focusing on the reason he came in here, opening up his laptop. you and sarah keep yapping back and forth, until you finally hang up.

you look up at rafe expectantly the second you hang up the call, but he's too focused on the screen to see you. you set aside the magazines, tightening up the nail polish bottle and setting it on rafe's nightstand carefully—you didn't need another fiasco like the time you spilled it everywhere.

but just like your boyfriend, you were too stubborn to listen to anyone but yourself.

"okay! i'm ready now," you say, sitting up against his headboard.

"ready for what?" rafe asks, still not looking up. you want to chuck the nail polish at him to get his attention, but you foresee it ending badly, settling on tossing one of the magazines instead. it lands with a thud by rafe's feet. "huh?" just confused, not angry, he picks it up and sets it down on his desk before looking at you.

"i'm ready to hang out now." for all your stubbornness, even the irritating way you fight with him and somehow always have a better comeback ready than he does, when he looks at you, it's hard to hold back a smile.

"what about twenty minutes ago when i was ready to hang out, huh?" you roll your eyes.

"oh, shut up, liar. you came to get your laptop."

"you don't know that."

"if you came to hang out, you would have come here and hung up the call." you say it matter-of-factly, looking up at him with an irritatingly pretty smile, the one reserved for when you're reading him for filth.

"shut up." he closes the laptop and makes his way to you anyways, but when you curl into his chest and get quiet for a moment, he has a hard time remembering what the two of you were even talking about to begin with.

and though you would never admit it, you don't either.

#silly sorry its all that came to mind but #<333 #you get them #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #bitchy reader

[tasteracha]

lollipop

word count: 1.6k

warnings: afab!reader, oral (m receiving), smut - MINORS DNI

synopsis: felix has an oral fixation.

it starts with a lollipop. he hands you one while you’re working on your laptop, sat at the kitchen counter while he fixes himself a smoothie. you take it in your hand without looking at it, thanking him under your breath as your eyes glaze over on the thirty page article you’ve been assigned to read. it’s not uncommon for him to give you something sugary while you’re working, he knows you have a sweet tooth and he keeps jars of candy stocked just for you. 

“you want a taste?” you quirk an eyebrow at him when he realizes he’s been staring, holding the lollipop out at him. he nods, moving towards you with an open mouth, and you’re quick to move your own mouth to his instead. he moans in surprise into your mouth as you swirl your tongue around his, transferring the sweet taste to him. when you pull back he’s flushed, pink cheeks and ears on display, and you smirk as you go back to your article, sticking the candy back in your mouth. he gulps down his smoothie and leaves the room faster than you’ve ever seen him, but you don’t notice, too focused on finishing your work.

you’ve forgotten about it by the next day, when he deposits an iced coffee to you when he gets home from his dance studio. the straw is already stuck in the lid but the drink is full, evidence of how he tried a sip on his way back and made a face when he realized he didn’t like it. you don’t know why he does this every time, he knows he doesn’t like your coffee order and yet he needs to try it every time like one day he will miraculously enjoy it. 

you’ve forgotten about it by the next day, when he deposits an iced coffee to you when he gets home from his dance studio. the straw is already stuck in the lid but the drink is full, evidence of how he tried a sip on his way back and made a face when he realized he didn’t like it. you don’t know why he does this every time, he knows he doesn’t like your coffee order and yet he needs to try it every time like one day he will miraculously enjoy it. 

you immediately take the straw into your mouth, suddenly parched as you take several sips of the drink, enjoying the way the cool liquid feels in your mouth. 

“thanks, lix,” you smile up at him. “just what i needed.”

he’s still standing in front of you, looking down at you from where you’re sitting on the couch, and the expression on his face looks almost hungry. his eyes are dark, hooded and framed by dark lashes, and you blink up at him in confusion as you take another sip. did he put something in the drink?

“what?” you finally ask once a few beats of silence pass on. it’s a little creepy the way he’s staring, but its felix so anything he does just ends up looking endearing rather than wrong.

“nothing,” he shakes his head, pushing your drink back to your mouth. “drink.”

his eyes are locked onto the straw entering your mouth, the way your lips wrap around it, the hollow of your cheeks as you suck and oh. it clicks into place, and you make a show of taking the straw just a bit deeper into your mouth just to watch his eyes darken further. he shifts his feet a bit, uncomfortable, and you hold back the smirk your lips want to curl into.

“you should take a shower, babe,” you say sweetly, putting the drink down and leaning forward in your seat a bit so your mouth is near his hips. “you’re sweaty from practice, no?”

“yeah,” he chokes out, clearing his throat. “i’ll do. that.” 

he scrambles out of the room and you’re left alone, burdened with new knowledge. you bite your lip, a bit dazzled by his blatant self serving behavior; how often has he brought you coffee just to watch you suck on the straw like that? how have you just now noticed? how long has this been going on?

you decide to take control of the situation, having been with him long enough to know that he would keep this game up for days or even weeks until he snapped. you were not willing to wait that long. you weren’t willing to wait at all, apparently, as your feet walked you to the bathroom before you realized where you were going.  

“what are you doing?” he squeaks when you open the shower door, already stripping out of your sweatpants and t-shirt. his face is still flushed, worse from the steaming water he has beating down on him, and he moves to cover himself in a futile effort. as if you haven’t seen all of him before, time after time. 

“isn’t this what you wanted, lix?’ you purr, dropping down to your knees in front of him. “don’t get shy on me now.”

the shower tiles are hard under your knees but you don’t care; there’s more important things to worry about right now than the weird bruises you’ll have there tomorrow. for one, the flushed cock, half hard, right in front of your face. it’s pretty, of course it is, everything about felix is pretty. 

you’re sure you make quite the image yourself, wide eyes looking up at him, lips pink and bitten, hair dripping from the spray of the shower catching you around his body. 

you take him into your hand, thumbing at his slit and reveling in how he hisses and braces a hand against the wall. you let the tip of his cock into your mouth, sighing in contentment around it as you suck lightly. it fits in your mouth so well, like it was made just for you; you’re the only one who would ever see it, touch it, feel it inside of you for the rest of time and the power that gives you makes your head spin. 

he draws a deep breath when you take him deeper, and you can feel how tense he is trying to hold himself back. you suck a little harder, hollowing your cheeks and it punches out a strangled moan from him. the sound of the water hitting the floor is drowned away by the melody of sounds he’s making for you. 

“poor baby, you’ve gotten yourself all worked out, hmm? want to take it out on me?” you draw back with a pop, taking small breaths as you move to mouth at his balls. your hands drift to steady his legs when you feel his knees tremble, and you move to nuzzle his inner thigh with your cheek. his skin is soft, milky white and smooth and you want to litter it with bruises left behind by your mouth. another time though, you muse as you peer up at him and shiver at his intense gaze. 

“you drive me crazy,” he says, voice as unsteady as his knees, contested by the dark, possessive glint in his eyes. 

you jerk him off in evenly paced strokes, going back to swirl at his tip with your tongue, exactly the way you know drives him mad. you’re twirling around him like you did the lollipop he brought you, sucking like you did on the straw, the things that he’s lined up in the past 24 hours falling into place like dominos. 

you let your teeth graze the vein on the bottom of his cock, tracing against it with your tongue afterwards, your eyes fluttering when his knees go a little weaker and he dips down just a bit. 

“so pretty,” he groans out, voice impossibly deep as he’s thrusting shallowly into your mouth in a show of restraint. his dancer’s legs are coming into handy, his muscles flexing under the strain as he resists from fucking into your throat. “such a pretty mouth, hmm? and all mine.”

you hum around him in response, eagerly sucking him down as far as you can. his hand reaches to dig into your hair, grasping your strands between his fingers. he doesn’t tug, not until you moan around him and he jerks his hand a bit, and the slight pinpricks of pain shoot right down your spine; you can feel yourself getting wet, incredibly turned on, but you ignore it. this isn’t about you. 

he bucks into your mouth a bit and you choke, pulling back to squeeze at his shaft in a silent warning. tears prick at your eyes and a string of saliva connects your lips to him, dirty and lewd and he's staring at you like he wants to take a picture of you right now, lips and hand wrapped around his cock, to keep forever. he’s close, you know he is by the way his head is tipped back into the shower spray and his chest is heaving with labored breaths. 

“you’re so good, baby,” he groans, tugging you by the hair back onto his cock. “so good to me. like you were made just for this.”

you swallow hard around him before backing away, jerking him off quickly and lolling your tongue out just in time to catch his release on it. a little dribbles onto your chin as you swallow and you whine as he wipes it away with his thumb. you close your eyes and lean back, utterly content despite having not been touched at all. doing this for him, making him feel good, has always been enough to satisfy you. 

“what was that about?” he says once he gets his breath back, helping you to your feet when your knees buckle as you try stand. he turns you around so you’re under the spray and he massages expert fingers through your scalp, as if in apology for the pulling he did earlier. 

“your fault,” you breathe out, leaning back into him. you hate how spent you feel compared to him, even though he’s the one who just came. “you left me a trail of breadcrumbs, i just followed them.”

“does that make me a loaf of bread?” he jokes, pressing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder, his breath tickling your skin. 

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix smut #felix smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids fic #lee felix imagines #felix imagines #felix x reader #lee felix x y/n #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts

[elia-the-bibliophile]

Diamond of the First Water (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)

Genre: Fluff

Formula 1 meets the whispers of high society gossip. A crossover you never know you needed😉

Max Verstappen’s relationship with a talented actress, Y/N, takes a rough turn when she lands the role of Daphne Bridgerton opposite a charismatic co-star. Jealousy and insecurity grip Max as he struggles to cope with his feelings. Will their love survive the fast-paced drama of both the racetrack and the Regency era London set of "Bridgerton"?

Max sits on the couch, his laptop open in front of him. He clicks play on the latest promo for the Bridgerton series, his eyes fixed intently on the screen.

As the scenes unfold, showcasing the undeniable chemistry between you, his girlfriend of 3 years and Regé-Jean Page, Max's jaw tightens slightly. He can't deny the pang of jealousy that twists in his chest as he watches their on-screen romance unfold, where you starred as Daphne Bridgerton.

"Looks like you and Regé are hitting it off," he said with a scoff, his eyes narrowing as he watches the scenes play out. Despite his attempt at nonchalance, insecurity lingers.

With each new promo snippet, Max finds himself drawn deeper into the story. He watches as you and Regé-Jean share intimate moments, his heart clenching with a weird mixture of both pride and jealousy.

Max's finger hovers over the mousepad, hesitating for a moment before clicking on a short clip that has sent the internet into a frenzy. The iconic scene plays out on the screen, showcasing Regé-Jean as he delivers the unforgettable line, "I burn for you."

As the scene unfolds, Max's breath catches in his throat, his eyes widening slightly at the intensity of the moment. He can feel his heart rate quicken as he watches the raw emotion in Y/N's eyes, her performance bringing the character of Daphne to life in a way that captivates audiences around the world and he can see why.

Another round of jealousy flares within him as he realizes the impact of the scene, knowing that millions of viewers are falling under the spell of his girlfriend's on-screen chemistry with the newest heartthrob. "Quite the scene," he murmurs to himself, possessiveness coloring his words. Despite the swirling emotions within him, Max can't tear his eyes away from the screen, captivated by the power of the performance and the undeniable magnetism of the world building. People might not would’ve guessed that the Max Verstappen loves a good period drama.

_________________________________________

The next day, Max is in the middle of a training session when his phone buzzes with a text from Charles, and he glances down to see a link. Curiosity piqued, he opens it and finds himself directed to a recent interview featuring of course, Regé-Jean Page.

"So, Regé, let's get down to the important questions, shall we? We've heard rumors swirling around the set of Bridgerton about a certain someone catching your eye. Care to set the record straight?"

Regé chuckles, voice smooth as honey, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, I see you've been talking to the gossip columnists. Well, I'm afraid I can neither confirm nor deny anything at this time."

“Oh, playing it coy, are we? But seriously, the world is dying to know – who is your celebrity crush?"

His smile widens, and he leans back in his chair, considering the question with mock seriousness. "Well, you know, there are plenty of beautiful and talented people out there in the world of entertainment. But if I had to choose just one, I suppose I'd have to say... Y/N."

The interviewer raises an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Y/N? As in the leading lady of Bridgerton herself?"

Regé nods, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Guilty as charged. What can I say? You cannot play a role alongside her and not fall in love. It's just impossible."

The interviewer chuckles, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. "Well, I'm sure Y/N will be thrilled to hear that. And who knows? Maybe there's a real-life love story brewing behind the scenes of Bridgerton."

Regé laughs, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “I couldn't possibly comment on that. But I will say this – working with Y/N has been an absolute joy, both on and off screen."

Max's hand clenches as he watches the interview, the weight of Regé’s words settling heavily on his shoulders. Despite the playful tone of the interview, there's a sincerity in his declaration that sends envy coursing through Max's veins.

He closes his eyes briefly, trying to push down the feelings of insecurity. But try as he might, he can't shake the nagging fear that Regé’s words hold a kernel of truth, that perhaps his girlfriend's on-screen chemistry has spilled over into something more.

With a heavy sigh, Max pockets his phone and returns his focus to his training, the weight of the interview lingering in the back of his mind like a shadow he can't shake.

_________________________________________

After a grueling session, Max emerges from the track, his muscles tense and his mind still buzzing with the weight of the interview. As he heads towards the paddock, he spots Charles leaning against the wall, sipping a cold drink.

"Hey, Max.”

Max grunts in response, his thoughts still somewhere else.

Charles arches an eyebrow, noticing Max's preoccupied demeanor, “Everything alright, mate? You seem a bit... off."

Max hesitates for a moment before deciding to confide in his fellow driver, "Yeah, just... had a bit of a run-in with the gossip mill today."

Charles let out an amused laugh, "Ah, you’ve catched that interview with Regé-Jean Page then?”

Max's eyes narrow slightly as he regards Charles, Charles chuckles, his grin growing wider, “Seems like he's really into her, huh? For someone who's supposedly just doing it for promo," he said with a shrug.

Max pauses in his tracks, Charles's words echoing in his mind. He turns back to face the Monégasque, a crease forming between his brows, “You think so?"

Charles nods, his expression thoughtful, “Yeah, I mean, sure, it's all part of the promo game, but there was something in the way he said it... seemed pretty genuine to me."

Max's lips thin into a line as he considers Charles's observation. Despite his initial dismissal of Regé’s declaration, a part of him can't shake the nagging feeling that there might be more to it than just publicity, "I guess we'll never know for sure."

Charles claps Max on the shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile, "Don't let it get to you, mate. At the end of the day, you know where you stand with Y/N. And if Regé wants to play the celebrity crush game, well, that's his prerogative. You're the one she comes home to."

Max nods, a sense of resolve settling over him. He may not be able to control the rumors swirling around Bridgerton, but he can control how he reacts to them, "Thanks, Charles. I needed to hear that."

With a nod of appreciation, Max turns and continues on his way, the weight of Charles's words giving him a newfound sense of clarity. Whatever may come, he knows that his relationship with Y/N is built on a foundation of trust and love, and nothing – not even a charming actor and a flurry of gossip – can shake that.

_________________________________________

On his way home, Max decided to shoot you a quick text, “Hey schatje, how’s your day going?”

Y/N response came in seconds with a picture of you and Regé, “Hi baby, I’m out for coffee right now with Regé, he says hello to you”

Max's heart skips a beat as he reads Y/N's response, a surge of mixed emotions washing over him. But he takes a deep breath, pushing those feelings aside as he forces himself to respond, “Coffee with Regé, huh? Tell him I said hello back."

Despite the weight on his chest, Max forces a smile as he hits send, trying to push aside his insecurities and trust in the strength of his relationship with you. But as he waits for her reply, the image of Y/N and Regé together lingers in his mind, further fueling the flames of his unease.

Max's fingers hover over his phone, hesitating for a moment before he types out his next message, “What time do you think you'll be home, schat?”

When the ‘ping’ finally comes, it's like a weight being lifted from his shoulders, but it's quickly replaced with a sense of resignation. “It'll be late darling, so don't wait up."

Max's jaw tightens as he reads the message. He knows he shouldn't let his insecurities get the best of him, but the image of Y/N and Regé together won’t go away. His minds pulling all sorts of mean tricks on him.

With a heavy sigh, Max sets his phone down on the passenger seat beside him, the glow of the screen casting a faint light in the dimly lit car. The quiet hum of the engine fills the air as he drives through the empty streets, the silence broken only by the occasional sound of passing cars.

As he navigates the familiar route home, Max's mind is consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The image of Y/N and Regé replays in his mind like a broken record. He even think about slapping himself, hard, to clear his mind.

And as he finally pulls into the driveway of their apartment, he can't help but feel a sense of loneliness settle over him, longing for the comfort and reassurance that only your presence can bring. And there’s not much of that these days.

_________________________________________

The next day, as Max arrives at the track, he finds Charles and Carlos waiting for him near the paddock, wearing matching mischievous grins, “Max! We thought we'd grab lunch together today. What do you say?" Charles asked.

Max's eyebrows furrow in surprise at the unexpected invitation, but he can't help but feel a flicker of gratitude at the gesture. “Sure, sounds good. Thanks, guys."

As they head to the nearby café, Charles and Carlos make a team effort to keep the mood light, peppering the conversation with jokes and anecdotes from past races.

"So, Max,” Carlos starts, “Heard you've been spending a lot of time with Netflix lately. Regé giving you a run for your money?"

Max chuckles, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, “Yeah, something like that. It's a whole new world for me, y’know? Used to dating models and them doing quick photoshoots. Now, it's all about the long hours on set and endless promo tours."

Charles raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye, “Ah, so you're not used to your girlfriend spending more time with her co-star than with you?"

“Hey, watch it, mate. I'm not about to let some actor steal my girl.”

Carlos laughs, shaking his head in amusement, “Well, if Regé ever gets too cozy with Y/N, just let us know. We'll take care of it on the racetrack."

_________________________________________

That night, as you walked through the door, your heart swelled with anticipation of finally spending quality time with Max after a long while on set. However, instead of the warm embrace you were expecting, you were met with a cold silence. Max was sitting on the kitchen table, his expression unreadable.

Confusion etched across your features, you approached him cautiously, “Darling, is everything okay?"

He looked up, his gaze piercing, "Are you into him, huh?" He spat out, his words might as well have been laced venom.

Your heart sank, confusion flickering in your eyes, "What? Max, no, of course not," you replied softly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rising emotions.

Max's jealousy bubbling to the surface, “I see the way you look at him, the chemistry between you two on set. It's like you forgot you have a boyfriend waiting for you back home.”

You knelt down in front of him, reaching out to gently cup his face, willing him to understand. "Max, surely you can’t think this. You're the one I love, the one I want to be with. But acting is just that—acting. It's not real."

Max angrily brushed you off as you tried to reason with him, his frustration palpable in every movement. Ignoring your pleas, he stalked towards you until you were backed against the wall, his eyes blazing with jealousy.

"Do you like it when he kisses you?" he demanded, his voice harsh and accusing. "Is he a better kisser than I am, schat?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt the weight of his anger bearing down on you. Swallowing hard, you met his gaze with a mix of defiance. "No, Max," you replied firmly, refusing to let his words break you. "He's not and that doesn’t even matter.”

His grip tightened on your shoulders, his expression torn between anger and vulnerability. "Then why do I feel like I'm losing you?" he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

You reached up to cup his face, the warmth of your touch a stark contrast to his simmering rage. "You're not losing me, Max," you reassured him, your voice soft but unwavering. "I'm right here."

For a moment, he seemed to waver, his resolve crumbling in the face of your unwavering love. And then, with a heavy sigh, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he murmured against your skin. "I just... I can't bear the thought of losing you. Watching all those clips drove me insane.”

You held him close, feeling the tension in his body slowly melt away. "You won't lose me, Max," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. "You know I’m yours, my love, and have always been yours.”

Max leaned back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any hint of the truth. "Do you think he likes you for real?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Because it certainly seems that way."

You shook your head, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Max, it’s just acting. Regé is a professional, and so am I."

He studied your face intently, as if trying to decipher the truth hidden within your words. "But the way he looks at you..." he trailed off, unable to voice the insecurity that gnawed at him.

You reached up to gently cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Max Emilian, look at me," you urged softly. "You're the only one I want. I chose you, and I'll keep choosing you every single day."

A flicker of doubt crossed his features before he finally nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I let my jealousy get the best of me."

You smiled tenderly, pressing a kiss to his lips. "It's okay, baby. We all have our moments. What matters is that we work through them together."

Feeling the tension ease between you, you gently took Max's hand and kiss the back of it, offering him a reassuring smile. "You know, if you're feeling uneasy, you could always come to set and see for yourself," you suggested. "I'd love to introduce you to Regé."

Max's expression softened at your offer, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Really? You'd be okay with that?"

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently. "Of course. I want you to feel secure in our relationship, Max. And I want you to see firsthand that there's nothing going on between me and him. We’re just friends.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Max's lips as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "Thank you, liefje. That means a lot to me."

Laughing softly, you playfully teased Max, "Come here, you big baby," before pulling him close.

As your lips met in a sweet kiss, the tension of the moment melted away. As if it’s never been there on the first place.

_________________________________________

Max finally secured a week off from his demanding training schedule, and Y/N couldn't wait to share her world with him. As he often whisked her to every Grand Prix, but he has never been to any of her filming set.

As Max stepped onto the sprawling set of "Bridgerton," his eyes widened in awe at the bustling activity around him. Towering structures resembling the grandeur of Regency-era London loomed in the distance, while a flurry of costumed actors and crew members darted about, bringing the world of the early 1800s to life.

Y/N grinned beside him, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she led him deeper into the heart of the set. "Welcome to the world of Bridgerton," she said, her voice dripping with pride.

Max couldn't help but marvel at the meticulous attention to detail evident in every corner of the set. From the ornate costumes to the elaborate set pieces, it was as though he had been transported back in time.

"This is incredible," Max breathed, doing a 360 degree turn to take in the sights around him.

Y/N squeezed his hand affectionately. "I'm glad you think so. It's been such an amazing experience being a part of this production."

As they wandered through the bustling set, Y/N introduced Max to her co-stars and fellow crew members, each interaction filled with warmth.

And finally, “Max, this is Regé," Y/N said, gesturing to a dashing man in period attire. "He plays Simon Basset, the Duke of Hastings."

Regé extended his hand with a friendly smile. "Pleasure to finally meet you, Max. Y/N's been telling us all about you."

Max shook his hand, feeling a pang of jealousy despite himself. "Likewise," he replied, forcing a tight smile.

Throughout the day, Max watched in fascination as scenes were meticulously rehearsed and filmed, the air alive with creativity and passion. And as he witnessed Y/N slip effortlessly into the role of Daphne Bridgerton, her talent shining brightly alongside her co-star, Max couldn't help but feel a swell of admiration for the woman he loved. Seeing her at her natural element makes him adore her even more.

"It's been amazing seeing you in action," he said to Y/N, pulling her close.

Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes alight with happiness. "I'm glad you could be here with me, Max. It means the world to me."

With a playful glint in her eye, she nudged him gently. "You've been avoiding Regé all day," she teased, her voice laced with affection. "I thought you'd be eager to track him down."

Max chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I just didn't want to intrude on your scene," he replied, attempting to mask his unease.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Oh, come on, Max. I know you're not one to shy away," she teased, linking her arm through his. "Come now, don’t be rude.”

Max's sighed, conceding defeat. "Alright, alright.”

As they approached Regé, now in his everyday clothing, to his surprise he greeted him warmly, despite him being an asshole throughout the day. “This might sounds weird but I've been a fan of the sport for years, ever since I first saw Lewis Hamilton in action."

Max’s interest piqued. "That so?” he replied.

"I've watched so many of your races!" Regé continues, his admiration evident in his voice. "You're great, mate."

Max's cheeks flushed with a hint of pride at the praise. "Thanks, I appreciate that," he said, genuinely touched by Regé's words.

Y/N beamed at the exchange between the two men, delighted to see them finally talk. "I told you he's a big fan," she said, teasing Regé playfully.

Regé grinned sheepishly. "Guilty," he admitted, his enthusiasm unabashed. "I try to catch every race I can. There's something about the speed and precision of it all that's just mesmerizing."

Max felt a wave of relief wash over him as he realized he had more in common with Regé than he had initially thought. The fact that he is also a genuinely nice bloke also helps.

As Y/N excused herself to talk to the director, Max found himself alone with Regé, the air tinged with a slight awkwardness. Sensing the tension, Regé cleared his throat and turned to face Max with a sincere expression.

"Listen, Max," Regé began. "I just wanted to apologize if I ever made you uncomfortable. It was not my intention as I am just doing my job."

Max blinked in surprise at Regé's unexpected apology, his guarded demeanor melting away. "Oh, no, it's cool," Max reassured him quickly. "I understand. It's all part of the promotion game, right?"

Regé nodded, relief evident in his eyes. "Exactly," he said earnestly. "Most of those interviews are scripted anyway. But I just wanted to make sure you know that I didn't mean to come off too strong."

Max smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude towards Regé for his sincerity. "No worries, man," he said, clapping a hand on Regé's shoulder. "I appreciate you saying that. And hey, it's actually really cool to meet another fan of the sport."

Regé's smile widened at Max's words, the tension between them dissipating completely. "Definitely," he agreed warmly. "Maybe we can catch a race together sometime."

Max's grin mirrored Regé's. "Actually, how about I get you access to the Paddock Club for Silverstone? It's an experience every F1 fan should have."

Regé's eyes widened in surprise and excitement. "Seriously? That would be incredible!" he exclaimed, unable to contain his enthusiasm.

Max chuckled. "Consider it done," he said with a grin. "I'll make sure you have the best view of me winning.”

Y/N returned, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she slipped her arm around Max's waist. "What are you boys plotting about?" she asked, clearly intrigued by the conversation she had interrupted.

Max exchanged a knowing glance with Regé before turning back to Y/N. "Ehh just making plans for Silverstone," he replied. "I'm getting Regé access to the Paddock Club so he can experience F1 up close."

Y/N's eyes widened in delight, her smile widening. "That's amazing!" she exclaimed. "Regé, you're going to love it!"

Regé grinned from ear to ear. "I can't wait," he said eagerly, his eyes shining with anticipation. "Anyways, I'll catch up with you guys later. It was great meeting you, Max."

Max tipped his head. "Likewise," he said warmly. "Take care, man."

Y/N couldn't help but tease, "Aw, look at the two of you getting along so well. To think, not a few days ago, you would've punched him in the face," she remarked.

Max chuckled, shaking his head at the memory of his initial impression. "Yeah, well, I guess you could say he grew on me," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 #f1 blurb #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic rec #formula 1 #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #bridgerton #regé jean page

[samandcolbyownme]

hey can you do one where like y/n does only fans and colby finds out about it?

Warnings: strong language, onlyfans star!reader, friends to lovers

New series called Snippets. I will write a little for each request and then keep them all together so I can come back later and use them to write a full one shot. Hope that makes sense! Thank you!

══════════════════

Colby sounded different on the phone, he didn’t tell you anything was wrong, but you could tell there was something bothering him.

You liked Colby.

A lot.

The one thing that’s been holding you back from telling him about said feelings, is mainly your onlyfans page. You were sure whether or not Colby would be okay with that, and to be honest, you pay your bills with that money.

You wanted Colby, yes. But you weren’t sure if he wanted someone that has shown their tits for money.

After an hour and a half of taking pictures in different colored lingerie for your page, you wrapped it up at the perfect time because you hear the front door open and close with a powerful shove.

You shove your tripod in your closet and the lingerie at the bottom of your bottom dresser drawer and turn around just as there’s a knock on your door.

“Come in.”

The door opens and Colby walks in, “Hey.”

You give him a smile, “What’s up, Colbs?” Your smile fades when he doesn’t look at you for a few seconds, “Colby?”

His words shocked you, “Do you do porn?”

You blink a few times, “um. I mean yes and no.”

“What do you mean yes and no?” He turns towards you, “Do you just go through guys? Like what? how does that work?”

You hold up your hand, “Whoa, back it the hell up. What is your deal?”

Colby sighs, “My deal, is that you do porn and you never told me?”

You laugh slightly, mainly trying to cover up your nervousness, “Colby it’s not straight porn. Okay? I do OnlyFans. I don’t do anything nude. Well..”

He looks at you, “What do you do?”

You grab your laptop and bring it towards you. You get in, clicking around until you pull up your page, “Here. Look. The only really bad thing is that I show my boobs. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.”

He walks over, sitting down beside you as he takes your laptop. You can tell there’s a positive change to his demeanor and you bite your lip, “So.. who told?”

Colby laughs, “well.. actually.” He looks over at you, “one of Sam’s buddies sent him a screen shot and asked if it was you.”

He looks back at the computer screen and scrolls down, “It was this picture actually.” He point to the screen and you purse your lips, “That was a money post.”

“What’s that mean?” Colby looks at you and you can’t help but giggle, “It means.. you have to pay to see the photo.. and who ever sent that to Sam.. paid to see it.”

“So, they’re subscribed to you?” Colby asks and you nod, “or someone else he knows is?” You shrug, “I’m not sure, Colby.”

He just stares at you, “Huh.” He jocks his jaw and nods, “Mm. Okay.”

“So what? Are you like mad at me? Not friends anymore?” You purse your lips, “Like does this make you look at me different?”

Colby shakes his head, “Not really. Well.. I mean, okay. Yeah I see you differently now, but like..” he scratches his brow, “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I didn’t want to tell you because I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it and I didn’t want to risk ruining our friendship.”

Colby chuckles, “Ruined?” He shake his head, “No. not at all. As I said. Different.. a hundred percent.”

“Different?” You ask as you tilt your head and he nods, “Oh yeah. You’re so much hotter than I originally thought.”

You can feel your cheeks growing warm and Colby’s next question didn’t help any matters, “So how do you feel about potentially doing porn?”

Fuck, you think, “Um. I mean..” you laugh slightly and look down before looking at Colby, “Maybe if it was someone I was comfortable with?”

You nod, Colby heavy on your mind, “Yeah. I think I could do it.”

A smirk grows on his lips as he slowly leans in, giving a nod to the right with his head, “Go get those pretty little outfits, because we’re about to be making you bank, baby.”

══════════════════

Let me know how you like these snippets so far and as always, ilysm thank you for reading 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #snippets #Colby Brock #sam and colby one shots #Colby Brock smut #colby brock one shots #Making Bank #updates #anon request #onlyfans!y/n #onlyfans star!y/n #colby brock x reader #dirty colby brock #colby brock dirty imagines #smut #fluff #friends to lovers #sam and colby

[yndrgrl]

yandere! bakugou uses you to get to someone else, but ends up falling for you instead

long ass fic. fem! reader. regular! au. enemies to lovers. lowkey crack! fic. tsundere! bakugou.

warnings: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, manipulation, somnaphilia (idk how to spell it), degrading, bullying, spitting, public sex, hatefuck

a/n: requests are open :) (plz request something, idk what else to write about 😭)

---

"no." that's all you said. so flat, so robotic. that's all you wanted to say.

bakugou was a pushy man, however. "it wasn't a question."

"oh for real?" you gasped, putting both hands to your cheeks to show your faux shock. "no."

"listen, you're gonna help me win over uraraka-"

"no, i'm not, bakugou," you denied once more. you don't even know why he came to you in the first place. it was clear as day that uraraka had a major crush on izuku, & izuku liked uraraka just as much.

honestly, what surprised you the most is that bakugou even had a crush. i guess it makes sense that it would be on uraraka though.

"yes, you are because i have something over you," bakugou threatened lowly.

you scoffed, "oh, do you now?" there wasn't really much he could have over you that would make you help him-

he slammed a journal on the desk, a slam echoing throughout the library. it was your personal diary.

you lunged for your journal, but he snatched it & threw it into his bag. you screamed at him, "how'd you get that, you sicko?!" the only way he would've gotten that was by breaking into your dorm room.

"are you going to help me or not?"

yes, you could've bought a nicer, leather journal with handcrafted pieces of paper, glued recent pictures of your life & decorated the pages with washi tape, stickers, & colored markers, but you didn't want to start over yet. your journal is a year & a half old, every page nearly filled; it's a deep dive into your mind. every overwhelming event in your life, every good memory, every goal you strive to achieve is written down in that book. bakugou katsuki had that all in his possession.

that's why, two days after you found out what he has, you're sitting with your usual study group in your designated, outdoor study area-- plus bakugou. your bluetooth speaker played a playlist shared throughout the group. you sat on the edge with uraraka beside you & bakugou across from you.

"y/n," someone said, catching your attention; it was uraraka. "i didn't know you & bakugou were friends."

you wanted to laugh. you quickly told her, "we're not-"

"we're good friends," katsuki overlapped with his lie. his scowl upturned into the smallest smile when uraraka glanced up at him.

"oh wow, i had no idea! the two of you are so hard-headed, i wouldn't have expected the two of you to get along so great," she said back with a giggle. you loved uraraka, but she's too friendly sometimes.

bakugou, trying to play into the cool-bad-boy character, said, "yeah, well she makes it hard sometimes, but it helps when she has cute friends, i guess."

never in your life did you think you would hear big, tough bakugou flirt in your life.

they continued their conversation that you tuned out, rereading your notes & constructing plans on how to get your journal so you could expose him. everyone was invested in their own stuff. obviously, bakugou & uraraka were talking amongst themselves. momo was explaining to jirou & mina some math topic that they were sobbing about. tsu was on her laptop as she tried finishing a power point that was due the next day.

your chin was propped up by your hand, humming the song that started playing. "um, excuse me," a masculine voice called out. it caught the attention everyone at the table. you heard bakugou scoff, & you could only assume he rolled his eyes.

you looked up at the source of the voice. he was right in front of you, face red, cheeky smile. he was cute in the way that a puppy eager for a treat was. "you're y/n, right?"

"yeah, i am," you confirmed, matching his grin.

he introduced himself by saying his name & told you that he was in the hero-support program. he then said, "i just wanted to say that you're just really pretty."

compliments were one thing. compliments from complete strangers always messed you up though. "oh, th-thanks." you're so awkward.

"so like, maybe i could get your number, & we could go on a date or two?"

you glanced back at all your friends, who all had big smiles as a way of non-verbally saying, "get your manz, bitch!!"

bakugou on the other hand, had an expression of confusion & anger-- the anger was permanent though.

"i mean, i don't give out my phone number, but maybe we can snap or something?"

the guy nodded with enthusiasm, pulling out his phone to give you his username. "cool, well sorry for wasting your guys' time," the boy said to you friends before turning to you & saying, "i'll hit you up later?"

"can't wait," you replied back.

as soon as he was out of earshot, mina squealed, "oh my god! you're such a flirt!"

jirou teased, "you're so awkward, it's literally so funny."

"you're my pretty best friend," tsu croaked with a laugh.

"guys, nothing is gonna happen," you said with a blush. "i'm just gonna be his friend."

"how does it feel to be hit on for the first time, loser?" bakugou yawned, as if he's been hit on ten million times by fan girls & milfs or something.

mina retaliated, "what are you talking about? y/n gets hit on all the time!"

uraraka jumped in, "yeah, what's was that? guy number five?"

"y/n?" bakugou questioned, & all your friends nodded. "that thing? doubt it."

"what's there to doubt? you just saw it," you growled at him, he annoyed you so badly.

after that study session, he got uraraka's number like he hoped for, but he was more curious about you. he never realized until that day how often you do actually get men's attention. bakugou always assumed you were some bookworm, writer nerd who leeched off of his darling, uraraka for popularity & personality.

"i don't get it," bakugou muttered, staring at your figure across the cafeteria. he was surrounded by his friends, who all followed his gaze.

kirishima groaned, "dude, just ask uraraka out already." it was routine that bakugou would say something about how shitty nerd, deku, isn't good enough for her affections or how he would be a better match for her.

"no, it's not that," bakugou corrected, glare not breaking off of you. this caught kirishima, denki, sero, & mina -who sometimes sat with you as well- off guard.

"what are you talking about, bro," denki asked.

"i don't get it. she's not even that cute," bakugou scoffed, slouching back into the bench. his eyes finally tore away from you & awase from class 1-b.

"who?"

"y/n, i think," mina assumed, & when bakugou didn't deny it, they all knew she was right. "why does it even bother you?"

"it doesn't," he said, glancing back at you. awase left you, & in his place was the floating, fighting machine uraraka. he didn't feel the need to say anything about her though, but he felt like he had to. "she's weird, uraraka shouldn't even be friends with her."

"there it is," sero sighed, making all the others laugh.

"shut up," bakugou scowled at them. everyone was used to it, so they weren't that threatened.

"but seriously, bakubro, don't hate on y/n just cuz she's best friends with uraraka, & you're jealous," kirishima told him. he always did this to the blonde. he wasn't scared to tell him off.

bakugou, infuriated, yelled, "i'm not jealous of her, okay? it's just stupid how she has everyone wrapped around her finger, so don't be some dumb, y/n defenders. hop off her fuckin' dick."

"i'm just saying, man. she's super cool, has a useful quirk, & is an awesome fighter," kirishima said, holding his hands as a way to show he was backing down.

"if i were you, bakugou, i would be trying to be her friend," mina said.

mina's words played on repeat in bakugou's head for a week. it was driving him crazy. even though that bridge of being friends was already burned & he kept telling himself he doesn't care, he can't help but want to be closer to you.

he said it was all for uraraka in the end. after all, when they were texting the other day, she said that she would want a future partner to get along with her friends or else it'll be a deal breaker.

bakugou deduced that if he was on favorable terms with you that uraraka would fall for him-- & maybe you too. he felt himself physically jolt when he thought that. why in fucks name would he want you to fall for him? he thought for a second. it's not like he wants to be with you or anything, but he doesn't want you with anyone else.

he somehow found himself in front of your dorm door past curfew. bakugou, at this time, was usually asleep, dreaming about a life where him & uraraka lived happily ever after. however, tonight was different. he didn't feel like thinking about the short-haired brunette.

he doesn't even know why he's outside your door.

in his head, he rationalized that he just loves uraraka so much that he'd give up sleep to become your friend. it was such an urgent situation that he didn't even bother putting on shirt.

he fished in his sweatpants' pocket for a lock pick, the same one he used to break into your dorm the first time to steal your journal. bakugou jammed it into the lock, opening the door with ease. he shut the door carefully before stalking further into your room.

there you were on your bed. swaddled in your fluffy duvet, cuddling a stuffed animal. you must've felt his presence because your sleeping self started shifting & ended up kicking off your blanket. you ended up on your stomach, one leg crunched towards your side while the bottom leg laid straight. you faced away from bakugou.

his breath hitched, something inside him twitched. bakugou couldn't help but stare. he had to admit that you had the body of his dream girl. wait no, his dream girl was uraraka-

he cut his own thoughts off when he saw how your ass looked in that position. the blue hue from the moonlight flowed into the room because, for some reason, you felt no need to close your curtains. he could make the shape of you so clearly. he reached for you.

he told himself that he wouldn't be cheating on his soon-to-be lover. it's just a touch, a friendly touch that friends share with each other.

his fingertips ghosted over your exposed thighs. you were wearing nothing but thong & an oversized band tee. the gentle touches turned into full-palm caresses. her skin is so smooth, bakugou thought. he loomed closer to you, inhaling deeply. she smells so nice.

he climbed over you with the agility of a shadow. the bed didn't even creak. he kneeled over legs, & his hands found your plush ass. he kneaded your bare butt, shifting you so you were fully on your stomach. you remained unmoving; you usually take melatonin gummies right before bed anyways.

bakugou kept groping your ass while his cock hardened into its full length. his hands wandered, thumbs grazing over your entrance. he grasped you, & he spread your ass cheeks apart. you must be dreaming about something dirty because your thong was soaked.

bakugou readjusted himself so he was on level with your ass. "this is just what friends do," he hazily whispered to himself. "friends help friends get better."

he blew on the wet patch, watching your pussy twitch through your panties. bakugou waited for a second, trying to grasp at any sort of self-control but, when you subconsciously propped your ass higher for him, he couldn't help it. he mentally apologized to uraraka before he dove into your ass.

his tongue licked your clothed slit, & he felt how thin your thong truly was. he only got an inkling of what you tasted like, & he craved more. bakugou lapped you juices through your panties, dampening the light grey cloth into a darker shade. his jaw hinged open to allow his tongue to delve further down.

he found your clit through your thong. he pressed his tongue against you, & sleeping, unsuspecting you let out a moan. "oh fuck," bakugou whispered in response, diving back into your pussy.

he pulled your thong up. it rode higher in your ass, then the part the was covering your pussy disappeared between your lips.

he started eating you out again, groaning in pleasure when he finally got to touch your bare skin. he slurped your juices over & over.

bakugou didn't realize that he pulled his sweatpants & boxers down to his knees. he pulled away from your pussy, a string of your juices & his saliva connecting him to you.

on his knees, he positioned his big cock between your ass. a moment of clarity hit him, it wasn't right, he knew that deep down. you really didn't do anything to him.

your phone next to your pillow buzzed. he grabbed it, his hung cock still pressed against you. it was a message from uraraka that read, "wait what did you wanna tell me about bakugou earlier? you looked so concerned haha."

you were trying to tell him? what a fucking bitch, bakugou thought with pure hatred. you were trying to sabotage him with your words, your pretty little mouth, with your dumb, stupid body.

his rationality was once again thrown out of the door. uraraka would want me to show y/n her place, he thought. he climbed off of you. he had to show you what your mouth was meant for. your mouth wasn't meant for snitching, it was meant for sucking cock-- his cock.

bakugou turned your head & pulled it at the edge of the bed. thankfully, it's like your body already knew what was gonna happen, your mouth was already agape. he pushed his tip past your lips. your tongue lazily stroked against his length. he moved his dick in & out of your throat, & yet somehow you still remained motionless.

his control turned into animalistic thrusts, gagging you over & over, & you still stayed asleep. "fuckin' stupid bitch," he groaned, throwing his head back. your throat expanded with each thrust to accommodate his thickness & length.

spit & his precum spilled out of your mouth & onto your silk pillowcase. because you were sideways, his heavy balls slapped against your face, nose shoved into his pubes. you gargled & gagged in your sleep, but you still handled him so well.

his passionate angry finally swelled up & shot down your throat. even though he was cumming, he kept half-assed thrusting in your throat, coating every inch with white. all for uraraka, remember? because bakugou completely forgot what drove him to do what he just did.

the next day, as you entered the classroom, he heard you tell to uraraka about how the melatonin gummies really worked. "yeah, i was completely knocked out! i drooled so much, my pillow was drenched. it was disgusting."

"really? i know that they're good, but i never drooled that much. maybe you really needed that sleep."

as they passed bakugou's seat, uraraka waved at him with pink cheeks. "hey, bakugou."

"uraraka," he said back to her. he watched your smile drop into a frown, your eyes rolling. he was winning over uraraka, he knew that, but he didn't feel satisfied. he yearned the banter between the two of you more than uraraka's affections. "what was that, idiot?"

uraraka was shocked at first, thinking he was talking to her until she heard you shoot back, "shouldn't you be watching ochaco instead of me?" if he didn't know any better, it sounded like you were jealous.

"y/n, let's calm down," uraraka sheepishly suggested, but it only angered you more. why was she on that weirdo's side? why wasn't she on your side? even after you told her what he did to you, she didn't even care; in fact, she seemed flattered.

"yeah, calm down," bakugou chimed in with that disgusting, cocky smile, "go in the back & drool all over your desk."

"eavesdropping now? you really are obsessed," you huffed, marching towards your desk that was, in fact, in the back of the classroom. you thought uraraka was right behind you, but by the time you turned around to sit in your chair, you noticed her take a seat next to bakugou.

the bell rang, & in rolled your sleepy teacher, mr. aizawa. he called roll, held an hour long lecture while you took notes, then assigned a 4-page essay with three sites sources. after he was done, he questioned, "now that we're done with that, what is happening today?"

iida's hand shot up along with his entire body.

"go ahead, iida."

"the 1a students from ketsubutsu academy are training with us today." oh right, you completely forgot about that. you were not in the mood to socialize with those uptight, cocky rich kids today. even though you took the melatonin gummies the night before to ensure a goods night sleep, you got everything but that. you felt like you were melting all night, & now you just felt restless.

"good, iida is correct," mr. aizawa confirmed. "they're already waiting in training facility a, so get dressed & be there in 10 minutes."

"yes sir!" & they all scurried out of the classroom.

your entire class entered the facility in their hero costumes. like mr. aizawa said, the visiting students were already there, stretching & warming up. mr. aizawa, once he noticed his entire class, announced that on the white board was everyone's names & assigned training group for the day.

everyone, including the other class, crowded around the board to find their names. "y/n!" your best friend, who you were extremely pissed off at, cheered. "we're all in the same group!" we... all?

you look at uraraka to see who she was referring to. "it's just my luck," you groaned, of course it was bakugou. "i just had to be put in a group with you!" you wanted to shout at everyone. you wanted to shout at uraraka for being swooned by a creep, you wanted to yell at mr. aizawa for putting you in a group with bakugou, & you wanted to scream, jump, yell, & hit bakugou over the head with a bat just for being the aggravating, prideful bastard he is.

"we just had to have a weak fuckin' nerd in your group?" he said to uraraka, but glanced to his side to meet your eye. your fuming expression really got him going. "there's no one more annoying than you-"

"are you y/n?" someone questioned. that just be the last person in your group.

you looked up at him, & with a half-hearted smile, you said, "i am."

"nice, i'm in your group," he told you, "i'm yo shindo. & i must admit, i was not excited for this whole group training thing until i saw a pretty girl like you was in my group."

oh, so he was a flirt? honestly, you didn't mind at all; you needed something to distract you & what's a better distraction than a buff playboy?

"honestly me too, but i think it'll be fun with you," you said back, but you overthought what you said. was it cringy?

bakugou was watching the whole exchange, brows furrowed, vein popping through his skin on his forehead. uraraka noticed, & because with the new-found knowledge that bakugou really liked her, she stroked his arm & asked, "are you okay?"

he looked at her with the same look of anger, now mixed with discomfort, & shrugged her off. "yeah, i'm fine."

he turned his attention back to you & shindo. bakugou's hands sparked ever so suddenly when he took in the scene in front of him. you were eating up all of shindo's praises & brags. your hands tried to squeeze around his biceps but you just couldn't connect your hands. "wow, your muscles are so big~ you must be strong."

"of course i am, i gotta be so i can impress pretty girls like you after all," he winked at you. for a moment, you glanced at bakugou, feeling his harsh glare, & he looked like he was about to explode. you didn't know why though, doesn't he have what he wanted already? he has uraraka right there, & yet he's still mad at you. he still owes you your journal too, so the two of you were not on good terms.

"sorry, i didn't mean to get carried away," you told shindo, pulling your hands away.

as the two of you walked towards uraraka & bakugou, shindo said, "i don't mind, you can touch me wherever, whenever."

you couldn't help but laugh out loud. "god, you're such a flirt!"

"you seem to love it though-"

"y/n, would you stop being a hoe for one second & train like you're supposed to?" bakugou said to you, hands stuffed inside his pockets, looking so nonchalant. you blinked a moment, & you waited for uraraka to say something or to rush by your side. she didn't do any of that

all she said was, with a giggle & eyes staring at bakugou, "that was mean." yeah, it was. it really was. the tips of your ears burned in humiliation, your palms became sweaty, & your breathing was uneven. after uraraka was done ogling bakugou, she looked at you, & her eyes widened. never in her entire childhood friendship did she see that expression on your face.

"dude, i don't know who think you are, but don't talk to her like that," shindo said, stepping forward & slightly in front of you. your tense shoulders relaxed just a bit-- someone is in your corner.

the amused bakugou turned pissed off when your new, little boy-toy went to your rescue, even though he knew you didn't need rescuing. "h-hey, let's save it for training, yeah-"

"i'll talk to y/n however i want, damn weak fuck," bakugou replied, copying his movements & stepping forward. "you're just like her: fucks anything that moves, huh?"

"bakugou-"

"that's it!" you shouted as you shoved bakugou away from shindo. the three of them -bakugou, uraraka, & shindo- were shocked to say the least. he pushed you too far all for entertainment & some obsession. "you're such a goddamn coward, you know that? all you are is a bully who's play-pretending to be a hero! you're such a control freak that, even after you stole my best friend, you still need to have something over me, so you won't give me back my stupid journal. & worst of all, you just stare & glare & act like i'm scum when you're the actual piece of shit! & you're not even ashamed! you want everyone to know! i hate you so much!"

after your tangent/rant, you walked away, quirk firing left & right. you didn't need to hear whatever bakugou was going to say next, it was probably be something so degrading that winds up in her next journal entry.

the three of the gawked at you, watching you walk straight to the state-of-the-art punching bags. uraraka was the first to speak. "i'll talk to her. i've never seen her that... mad. it was like she was a whole new person-"

"you guys are terrible classmates. there was no reason to say any of that. i'll go talk with her," shindo cut uraraka off. before either of them could do anything, bakugou was already strutting towards you, gauntlets sparking.

"who does she think she is?" they heard him utter. they were out of earshot, however, when he said, "making me fuckin' hard then walking away. damn tease."

he caught up to you in no time. you were almost to the punching bags when he grabbed your wrist, his hand was warm & a stinging sensation engulfed your wrist.

uraraka & shindo watched as the two of you screamed at each other, you shoving him, him glaring at you, you throwing a piece of your costume at him. honestly, it would've been comedic if it wasn't for bakugou pressing your buttons.

"what are they? toxic exes or something?" shindo questioned as they began to walk towards the fighting two.

"oh, no, not at all! i would've known," uraraka told him, "they're just... um... friends i think. maybe enemies."

"i can tell that much."

when the actual training began, you & bakugou tried to separate from each other. you were paired with shindo & him with uraraka. but, because of the conditioning & the way today's training was set up, it was inevitable that you two would interact again.

like at lunch, the two of you sat across each other at a table, eating your lunches. you didn't bother speaking, you didn't even want to see bakugou ever again, after all.

or at the water fountain, when he said, "hurry up." & so you took longer, even though you weren't thirsty anymore.

or when you had to rotate partners & bakugou was your only option. the two of you, against the rules, threw quirk-backed attacks each other.

& that's how you two ended up being excused early. while everyone else was getting better, you were locked out & forced to change back into your school uniform, & the only person with you was bakugou.

when you left the changing room, he was leaning against the wall-- almost like he was waiting for you. "you done being mad at me?"

"no, i'm not, & i'll never stop being mad at you," you said, walking right past him. he followed close behind you.

"listen, i didn't mean to embarrass you. i didn't know you'd get so pissy."

"what did you think was gonna happen?!"

"i don't know, okay?" the two of you were yelling at this point.

"you have ochaco, can you please just give me my journal & leave me alone? you two can be happy far, far away from me," you said, cursing yourself for choking up. you mentally prepared for the teasing & "witty" comebacks bakugou had in store.

instead, he asks, "are you jealous?"

"what?"

"are you jealous?"

you scoffed, opening the door to the dorm building. "don't flatter yourself, big guy."

"i'm being serious," he said to you as he leaned on the counter. you were so hungry that you didn't really care bakugou was watching you cook. "because i was."

"what are you getting at, bakugou?" you asked, putting a pot of water on the stove, bringing it to a boil.

"i was so jealous today," he said.

"of what?"

"of damn shindo kid," he responded back. your angered expression contorted into a puzzled one as you looked up at him. when you didn't reply, he continued, "if i knew stupid one liners got your attention, i would've been doing that sooner."

you couldn't believe what you were hearing. the guy who's been making the past few months hell was confessing something you never expected. "what about ochaco, hm? i thought you needed her to breath or something."

"yeah, i guess i liked her at first, & that's why i needed your help," he admitted. he then fished a journal, your journal, out of his bag & stood up. he walked towards you, hand outstretched with your beloved diary in his grasp. you reached out for it when he lifted it above your head with a taunting smirk. "but then i realized that i wanted you this entire time."

--nsfw starts here--

"you're just saying stupid things to get a rise out of me, bakugou," you rolled your eyes at him. you placed a hand on his chest as you jumped for your journal, fingers touching it ever so lightly. it was just out of reach.

you thought you had it, he brought the notebook down. however, you didn't have it. he threw it on the counter behind you, & the hand the was holding it snakes around your waist. his other hand grabbed your face, stroking your cheek as he kissed you.

you don't know why, but you found your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. without breaking your lips apart, he pushed you against the counter, pinning you between his two arms now. his tongue, the tongue that craved you since that unknown night, licked your lips before fighting yours for dominance. his thigh was between your legs. he pressed your core against him, & you moaned.

bakugou shut off the burner during your kiss. he was expecting the two of you to escape into his room, but when you threw off his tie & unbuttoned his shirt eagerly, he knew he needed you right then & there.

the two of you broke your kiss, & he placed his head in the crook of your neck. "you get off on making me jealous, don't you? that's why you were flirting with stupid shindo?"

"wh-whatever, you jerk. you act like you weren't basically grinding on ochaco in front of me all the time?"

bakugou laughed into the nape of your neck. "grinding? all we did was talk."

"same fuckin' thing," you growled in frustration.

"i didn't know you were so jealous of her."

"oh, fuck off, asshole," you said. you were quickly shut up by him biting your sensitive spots all over your neck, sucking & licking to create hickeys.

he took off your tie & ripped open your shirt. he unhooked your bra, throwing it god knows where. "take this fuckin' thing off," he uttered, helping you out of your torn clothes.

"h-hey!"

"shut up, & take it. i'll buy you a new one," he said before fondling your breasts. you bit your lip as your grinded against his meaty thigh. your wetness, even though you had panties on, began staining his slacks.

"bakugou~" you whispered, voice shaking.

"it's katsuki tonight, dummy," he told you, turning you around & bending you over the counter. you brushed your journal out of the way as you pressed you tits onto the cold, granite countertop.

with three fingers, he pinched your pussy through your panties so his middle one snuck in between your lips. "stop being a tease & fuck me already." if only you knew.

"be patient, woman," scowled katsuki, smacking your ass. he set of small sparks when he hit your cheek. "you can't take this cock yet. i'm doing you a goddamn favor."

you doubted him, you really did. he was so cocky & arrogant, how could you not? "i can take your tiny dick any day, don't underestimate me."

katsuki let out a hearty, sarcastic laugh. "you really think so, dumb bitch?" he unclicked his belt, dropping his pants & boxers around his ankles. he started to grind against your ass, & you swore up & down it felt like deja vu.

you gasped as you felt his length between your ass. you've had dreams about cocks that big, sure, but you didn't know they actually existed. "wh-what the fuck?"

"what? still think you take me? still think i'm tiny, sweetheart?" katsuki taunted as he took off your panties. he pressed your thighs around his cock, the base of it stimulating your swollen clit. he thrusted gently; it was so against his brash, aggressive character.

you were not one to back down, so at least you stayed true to your character. "yeah, i can take your skinny ass dick-" you were cut off by katsuki spreading your ass & shoving his girthy length into your throbbing heat. you screamed, tongue hanging out of your mouth as you tried to adjust to him.

he wouldn't let you though. katsuki, once inside your tight pussy, started pounding you. he shoved his cock head into your g-spot over & over, making you quiver & pulsate around him. "sl-sl-slow d-down!" you begged between thrusts. in response, he pulled your head back with your hair. you arched uncomfortably; your pelvis was still against the edge of the counter, but your head was pulled so far back that you could see katsuki's face.

"you think you're all that? you think you can just flirt with all these other guys in front of me? you fuckin' slut," he spat into your mouth, not that it mattered since it mixed with your drool & fell out of your mouth & onto your cold body. "i own you now. i own this mouth, i own this pussy, i own this ass, i own you."

"f-f-"

"c'mon, pathetic whore. say it."

"fuck y-you, katsuki." oh, you were a brat through & through clearly.

katsuki has had enough of your retaliation. you were supposed to be a brainless bimbo begging for more, yet here you were, surprising him again. any bit of consciousness you had, he was going to fuck out if you.

he, without pulling out, let go of your hair & made you stand up. he grabbed both your legs & hoisted you into this air. his hands found their way behind your head, & you couldn't move. you were nothing more than a cum dumpster to him now. "you know, if anyone walks through that door, they're gonna see you folded in half, tears streaming down your face with my cock balls deep in your dripping pussy, & they'd realize how much of a slut you are, & they'd know that you're all mine."

you didn't mean to, but your pussy clenched around his cock tighter as more of your juices squirted onto the linoleum floor. "oh, you like that, princess?"

you moaned in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he praised you. "aw, how pathetic. you must love when i call you cute nicknames & tell you how good you're doing." with whatever head movement you had, you nodded.

"that's a shame because you've been nothing but dirty, i can't treat you like a good girl until you deserve it."

"p-please! i'll do anything!" you cried out, then you started twitch uncontrollably around him. a white, hot wave of pleasure washed over you as you creamed all over his cock. he wasn't done yet, he still abused your cervix, making you beg for him to stop, or at least slow down.

his thrusts turned rapid as he started to groan about how you were all his, how he wasn't going to let any other man look at you, how he would be the only one you ever think about. you knew that was all true. "y/n, you fuckin' bitch, i hate you & your pretty, little face. take it all," he yelled as he unloaded his load into your tight pussy.

you screamed in overwhelming pleasure, squirting all over him once again. the two of you caught your breaths. he set you down once his cock finally stopped twitched, & he spun you around to embrace you. "i'm so sorry, y/n. i promise i'll be the best boyfriend in the world, just give me a chance. i know we're enemies or whatever, but i don't wanna be that anymore, & i don't want to be whatever this is; just fucking like we hate each other then go our separate ways." you've never seen this side of katsuki before.

"i-i'd like that, i'd like to be your girlfriend."

you hated him. you hated how he made you feel. you hated how he infected your mind, how he ruined you for any other man. you hated how you knew you needed him.

#anime and manga #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bnha bakugou #bnha fanfiction #mha smut #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x y/n #bakugou scenarios #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou drabble #bakugou x you #bnha x reader #bnha #mha x reader #katsuki x reader smut #x reader #katsukibakugou #katsuki x reader #yandere #yandere bnha #mha bakugou #my hero x reader #yandere bakugo katsuki

[kvtie444]

⋆‧₊˚ TEACHERS PET

A/N: ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18!! gonna try make this a series lol p.s. I love covet sm lolziezzzzzzzz

Summary: Reader has a new teacher and finds herself falling for him blahblahblah teachers pet by melanie vibes xoxo

Warnings: swearing, mentions of nsfw content, that’s it??

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

If you're fortunate enough to own a car, count your blessings. Given the means, I would have purchased one long ago, but the weight of tuition fees compels me to endure a daily mile-long walk in the unforgiving cold almost every day. Oddly enough, the journey to campus carries its qualities - passing through a park, surrounded by pleasant scenery, with my favourite playlist playing through my headphones, it becomes an almost comforting routine - except on days like today, where I’m running late.

Choosing sociology ranks among the biggest mistakes in my life, closely followed by my track record with every guy I've been involved with. It seems every guy my age is solely fixated on getting their dick sucked and seeking validation from their male peers.

Entering my building, I head straight to class, mentally preparing myself for boredom. Amongst my whole class, I've only really gotten close with one person in my class - Madi. She's friendly, and her accom building is conveniently across mine, making her my go-to companion here. Reaching my relatively small class, I push the door open, taking my seat beside Madi. Placing my bag on the desk. I unpack my belongings, removing my headphones and setting them on the table. "Look who's finally arrived," Madi teases with a smile. Glancing at her and then towards the front of the room, I notice the absence of the teacher. Did I really beat him here? "Where's Mr. Kennedy?" I ask, confusion etched on my face. Her expression falters. "Didn't you hear?" she begins. I shake my head no. "He got caught having an affair with a student," she whispers. My jaw drops. "So, who's filling in for him?" I ask. She simply shrugs.

Engaging in small talk whilst I log onto my laptop, her attention shifts to the door as our new teacher arrives, a solid 12 minutes late. I keep my eyes glued to my screen as I overhear him grabbing items from his desk. I momentarily look away and I almost moan when I see him. Brown hair, blue eyes, a slight beard, a chain sitting on top of his black sweatshirt, and plain black pants - he doesn't look a day older than 30. Picking up a marker from his desk and delicately fiddling with the lid, he looks up to face the class.

"Mr. Kennedy is unable to continue teaching you guys, so I'll be filling in for him," he announces, turning around to write his name on the board alongside the topic where we left off. "My name is Mr. Sturniolo, or just Matthew if you can't pronounce it," he half-jokes, a small chuckle escaping from his pink lips. Madi leans toward me, whispering in my ear, "smash." I can't help but chuckle, nudging her with my shoulder. When Matt turns around, his eyes dart into mine, shooting me a disciplinary look. I purse my lips, attempting to contain my smile, and look down, mouthing a small "sorry." He returns to his desk, flicks open his textbook, lands on a page, and then speaks up, "Everyone, go to page 56. We're going to start off where you were all left off with class differences in achievement”.

Throughout the lesson, he does an impressive job at teaching. He even sets up a Google Classroom for all his work and provides a platform for questions if we're confused—something Kennedy could never manage. Matt sends me a few glances, and each time, my face grows hot, causing me to look away first and break the eye contact. Eventually, the lesson concludes, and everyone quickly packs up, ready to leave.

"Alright, everyone, I want you all to finish off the chapter, make notes, and I'm going to upload a short essay question for you to fill out too. I want it done for tomorrow's lesson," he says, people beginning to exit the room, with me and Madi following suit. As I walk out the door, I glance back at him, and our eyes meet. He shoots me a smile, which I quickly return before looking and walking out of the room.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

I let out a frustrated groan, slouching back in my chair and running my hands down my face. I find myself back in my dorm, attempting to tackle this essay, but I’m stuck on my counterargument. I glance at my open laptop, its glow being the only source of light in my room as I anxiously tap my pen against my desk. Why am I so hesitant to ask my teacher for help? Y/n, don't bother him; it's 11 pm. fuck it.

Summoning a bit of courage, I lean forward and compose a message for him, meant for our eyes only. "Hello Mr. Sturniolo, I was wondering how to counterargue in the essay you assigned. Best regards, Y/n." No, no, no. I delete the message and retype, reminding myself that I'm not messaging fucking royalty. The new message reads, "Hi Matt, I'm a bit unsure of how to counterargue in the essay. Thanks, Y/n." I bite my lip before hitting send and then pick up my pen, drumming it against my desk again. I can't help but keep checking if he replies. It's only been two minutes. I mean, it's late. I keep my eyes glued to my screen eagerly until I see my 'delivered' message switch to 'read.' My breath hitches as my left leg shakes, my heel tapping the ground in quick patterns as I see three typing dots.

"Hey Y/n, don't worry about it. Try using the functionalist perspective and theorists like Parsons. I'll send you the page now. Matt." I smile at the message and feel like a cheesy teenage girl, my breath hitching when he sends an image. It's a page from the textbook which he is holding down with his left hand. shit. His large hand looked veiny, and his fingers took up so much space. He had rings on his fingers, excluding his ring and middle finger, making me bite my lip, almost prompting a moan at the idea. No, Y/n, he's your teacher. My eyes moved up his arm to catch a glimpse of the tattoos that were previously hidden under his sweatshirt. I wasn't even focusing on my work anymore. I snap out of my daze and type a little message, hoping to keep the conversation going. "Thank you !!" I send, now biting the end of my pen, smiling to myself. He's quick to start typing back, "Don't worry about it." I stare at the message until my breath hitches once I see him typing again. "Next time, try not to leave my work for the last minute." I softly giggle to myself, looking down at my hands.

I finally get the work done, submitting it online. I climb into bed and scroll through my phone until I fall asleep, feeling a sense of anticipation and excitement about seeing Matt again tomorrow.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Back in class again, I find myself barely able to focus on anything - well, it wasn't even work. Matt had put on some documentary, but my attention was solely fixed on him. What's wrong with me? He's just a good-looking guy, Y/n. A really, really good-looking guy.

"Y/n?" I'm snapped out of my trance by Madi. I look up at her; she's standing up, bag on her shoulder. "Lesson's over. Wanna meet and get some food later?"

I nod, "Yeah, text me," I reply, smiling as I get up and put my headphones back on, playing my music. I walk towards the door until I feel a hand on my arm, turning me around. Confused, I look up, and my confusion softens, feeling my face heat up upon seeing it's Matt. I pull my headphones down around my neck as he smiles at me.

"I was calling your name a few times, but your music's too loud," he chuckles. I giggle back at him, feeling flustered. His eyebrows furrow, and a smirk grows on his face. "Is that 'Covet'? Basement?" he continues, referring to the song from my headphones. I look down at my headphones before looking back up at him, smiling, nodding my head, "Yeah,". This man could not get any more perfect. He bites his lip slightly before leaning against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Am I in trouble?" I ask, my brows knitting together in worry. "Hm? Oh, no, no," he shakes his head. "Just have to hold you behind a bit and ask you something," he continues.

Shit.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #imagine #angst #chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #smut #SoundCloud

[mochinek0]

Wrong Wayne

Marinette was shocked when she got to work that day, at Wayne Enterprise. Someone had set up a desk and laptop, outside of Damian's office. Some random girl was sitting there, smiling.

Marinette walked over to the office and the girl jumped up from her desk.

"Mr. Wayne, isn't in." she smiled, "Do you have an appointment? I can let him know who you are when he arrives."

"And you are?" Marinette questioned.

"I'm Damian Wayne's newest secretary." she answered.

Marinette turned around and pulled her cell phone out. She immediately began to text Tim.

Coffee Buddy: We have a sitch in front of Damian's office. Bring up CCTV.

Espresso King: Who is that?

Coffee Buddy: Claims new secretary. Send security up and look thru footage. Must have moved someone's desk cuz I can still see my desk in the office.

Espresso King: Got it

Not a minute later, Damian stepped out of the elevator.

"Mr. Wayne, I-" the new secretary began.

"Who the fuck is this?" Damian asked.

The secretary panicked, "I-I didn't get her name! I'm very sorry! I-"

Damian glared at her, "Did I ask you? Marinette, who the fuck is this?"

"She claims to be your new secretary." Marinette answered, "Damian, you didn't tell me you were firing me."

The girl paled, further.

"You-You're stuff was cleared out!" she shouted, "It should be obvious now that you're no longer needed here!"

Marinette sighed, "My stuff is in Mr. Wayne's office."

Damian opened the door, allowing the girl to peer inside. As Marinette stated, there were two desks. One by the door, which she could tell belonged to his actual secretary. The other desk by the windows, must belong to Damian.

"Why?" she questioned.

"I'm barely here." Damian stated, "Marinette does most of the work to keep me updated. I'm here only when I need to be and only then."

Mari smiled, "You have a meeting in ten minutes. I left the details on your desk last night. It's with the board of directors for the new animal clinics on 5th and Main. There's a list on top of important bullet points for you to scan over on the first page."

Damian nodded as he headed to his desk. He picked up the packet and quickly started to read it over.

The lady looked around when security got on the floor. Marinette stood by as they put her in handcuffs.

"Why are you doing this?" she screamed, "I work for Mr. Wayne."

"No, you don't." stated Damian, "I do not know who you are. I tell every secretary, I fire, when it is their last two weeks. Miss Dupain-Cheng is by far, the best person to do the job assigned to her. I have no intention of letting her go."

"You bitch! You can't separate us now! We were meant to be!" the lady shouted, "You helped me that day at the Gala.. You picked up my bracelet after that jerk threw it!

"I rarely attend those annoying things." Damian spoke, "When I do, I tend to stay away from people. The last thing I would do is go out of my way for some trinket."

"We were ten." she smiled, "It was like a dream come true."

"I never stepped foot in Gotham until I was ten." the Wayne heir replied, "My first gala was at age thirteen."

"N-No!" she screamed, stomping her foot, " We met when we were ten!"

"You are likely thinking of one of the children my father adopted; liekly Drake." Damian announced, "He was the youngest Wayne before me."

"Drake?" the girl questioned.

"Timothy Drake-Wayne is the current Co-CEO with Mr. Bruce Wayne." Mari declared, "Timothy Drake became a Wayne at age twelve. Before that, he was heir to the Drake Industries. Mr. Wayne took him in after his parents past away and his step-mother was admitted to a facility in Bludhaven."

"Sharing my life story, Coffee Buddy?" Tim questioned, announcing himself, "We found out who the mystery secretary is. Her name is Maybel Evergreen. Her brother is a night guard. We're having GCPD heading to pick him up now."

"No!" Maybel screamed, "He didn't know about this! I told him I had a lot of work to do and wasn't given my badge, yet! He really thinks I work here! He's a single dad of a two year old. Please, I'll-I'll tell you everything just don't involve him!"

"We'll see if that's true." he spoke, walking away.

He made a call to GCPD to pick up the girl and leave the brother for leverage.

As he walked back to the sobbing lady, he looked her over, closely.

'She seems familiar.'

He snapped his fingers, gaining everyone's attention.

"Gold bracelet with opals." He called out.

"Told you." Damian muttered.

The lady looked at him shocked and nodded.

"Why did you harass my younger brother?" Tim questioned.

"Actually, she mixed you two up." Marinette explained.

"Us?" Tim asked, "Me?"

Damian sighed, annoyed, "She claims to have a crush on you since you helped her that day with her trinket. She wanted to 'help' you, too."

Tim blushed, "Oh, um, that's nice, but I'm afraid I'm seeing someone. His name is Bernard."

"Oh." she spoke, looking down at the floor.

"If you still....want to help, you can always apply." Tim offered.

"Really?" Maybel asked.

"You're dedicated; that's for sure." Tim chuckled, "You do still have to go to the GCPD and they can figure out what the damage is. Next time, just apply. I cannot guarantee that you will work with me, though."

Maybel smiled, "Thank you."

"Damian, you have a meeting in three." Marinette announced.

Damian locked the office and left with Marinette at his heels, reading over the packet.

TAG LIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @missmadwoman @meira-3919  @princessdaisysolosyourfaves @blep-23 @fangirlingfanatic @darkhinauniverse @ravenr22 @im-a-satanic-ritual @ravennm84  @bianca-hooks123 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @starling218

#marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #tim drake #wayne enterprises #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #misunderstanding #secretary marinette #wrong wayne #infactuation #bi tim drake #maribat #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #platonic daminette #platonic timari #big brother tim #mochinek0

[hotdrinks]

[ID: Greyscale TMA fanart. Jon sits at his desk in the dimly lit (by the desk lamp) Head Archivist’s office, in front of his open laptop. His head rests in his hands in what could be interpreted as either relaxation or defeated exhaustion. A page and a lighter sit at the edge of the desk. The ghost of Gerard Keay hovers beside the desk, arms crossed over his chest, with a thoughtful expression. Music emanates from the laptop speakers. They are listening to the 2017 Mastodon album Emperor of Sand. End ID]

Commission from @morning-softness for their fic! Thank you for commissioning me!! <333

#my art #tma #tma fic

[julilovesyou444]

ok first of all your writing is so good i’m literally in love????? anyways, could i request a tom x reader fluff with them cuddling but like tom doesn’t rly know how to do it bc he’s used to hook ups and stuff and so it’s diff for him?? i feel like that’s super specific but i think i wld be so cuteee idkk. anyways tysm pookie 💗💗💗

show me how ~ tom kaulitz

AHHHH thank you love!! you are so sweet💟 I’ll try!!! thank you for requesting, this is my first time doing one of these so I’ll do my best!! if you have a request, feel free to do it in the little thingy on my page, this was so fun !! ALSO, if this isn’t what you were expecting or anything, I’ll write it again differently, no problem ☺️

background ~ you and your boyfriend had just started dating not long ago, and there were a lot of things in the relationship that were new to him. he hadn’t been in many relationships at all, so he isn’t sure on everything, for example, cuddling and affection. you show him how :)

warnings ~ none, just fluff and cutesy stuff, tad bit of angst too

I’m Montenegrin so please forgive me if my English is messed up !

~

you had been at home all day, just picking up and relaxing. it was a pretty chill day though. you’re boyfriend, Tom, was at the studio all day. At first it was just a couple days of the week for a few hours, but lately it had been everyday for the whole day. You could tell it was taking a toll on him. He was tired and more irritable. You knew it wasn’t his fault, and you honestly felt really bad for him. When he would come home, he wouldn’t want anyone to bother him. After dating Tom for a week or two, you came to realize he was not an affectionate person. You thought that he just needed to warm up to you, but it had been almost a month. Besides kissing and sex, he rarely touched you. You couldn’t figure out what was wrong, so you tried to ignore it for the main part.

today was another long day for him. you weren’t living together yet, but he just slept over at your place all the time. you had made dinner for him tonight, not something you always did but you wanted to be nice. you were sitting on your bed, scrolling through random websites on your laptop when you heard the front door open and shut. Tom didn’t call out to you like he usually did. You knew today probably sucked for him. The fear of him rejecting you as he sometimes did made it hard for you to leave your room, but you did anyways.

You walked down the hallway to main room of the apartment to see Tom sitting on the couch, watching tv. He looked angry. The dinner you made him still sat on the table, untouched, and probably cold now.

“I made you dinner.”, you spoke softly. His eyes darted from the screen to yours. Tom looked so upset, almost as if he wanted to cry.

“I know. Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”, he replied coldly.

You took a step closer to him, almost testing the waters.

“How was the studio?”

“Shit. It was shit. Do I need to pause this or…?”, he replied rather harshly, referring to the television.

“Tom…”, you trailed off, very quiet. He saw the hurt in your eyes and immediately hated himself for taking his anger out on you. He grabbed the remote and turned off the t.v.

“I’m sorry, I’m just in a bad mood. I’m really stressed and tired and I don’t know how to get rid of it, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”, Tom said, sounding genuine as ever.

“come here.”, you said, putting your hand out for him to take. You could tell he was very hesitant, but he took your hand and let you pull him up from the couch.

before he could argue or protest, you pulled him into a hug. you usually didn’t hug, but it felt like he needed it. You wrapped your arms tightly around his torso and pushed the side of your face into his chest. At first, his arms were just outwards, unsure of where to go. When he became more aware and comfortable, and put his arms around your neck, hands on the side of your head as he placed his head on top on yours. you could feel him relax into the hug, and it made you so happy that you were finally able to do that for him.

“I’m sorry for being rude, today was just so so bad, and these long ass days are tiring me out.”, Tom said, his voice muffled into your head. He left a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

“I know, and I’m sorry. Let me help.”, you pulled away, looking up at him.

“Help how?”

“Y’know, help you relax and stuff. Make you feel better.”

“I’m not really in the mood to fuc-“

“No, Tom, not that. Like just get into pajamas and I’ll rub your back and cuddle you, yea?”

“Uhh-“

“Please, trust me, you’ll feel so much better.”

Maybe it was your pleading eyes, or the fact that he secretly wanted to be intimate with you in this sense, but it didn’t take a lot for him to give in.

“Okay.”

“Yea?”, you beamed. He couldn’t help but smile back before playfully rolling his eyes.

“Yea.”

“Okay, go get changed into something comfier.”

He nodded and grabbed some of his clothes from your room before heading to the bathroom.

You quickly went into your room and started trying to “set the mood”. You dimmed the lights as much as possible and lit a few candles. You grabbed a bunch of really soft blankets and some water too. You wanted him to feel comfortable around you. He wasn’t affectionate or that touchy with you, and you wanted him to be.

Tom walked into your room, looking around, admiring your dedication.

“Lay down.”, you instructed.

“So bossy.”, he jokingly muttered.

He laid down on your bed as you walked over.

“Lay on your stomach.”

He groaned but turned over onto his stomach.

You climbed up onto the bed, and then put one of your legs over him so you were straddling his lower back.

“what are you-“

“shhh just relax.”

your hands found their way under his shirt, making their way up to his upperback. You began to slowly massage circles into his back, feeling him instantly become less tense under you. You gradually added pressure in places that felt a little more stiff. You began to knead the knots out of his back too. There were a lot. No wonder the poor boy was so upset, his stress was causing him to get strained.

You went on massaging him for a bit more, and you could tell how calm he was getting.

you climbed off of his back and laid on your side next to him, facing him. His face was towards you and his eyes were shut, but you could tell he wasn’t asleep just yet.

“did you like that?”, you said softly. he opened his eyes narrowly and nodded.

“yes, thank you. you don’t even know how much I needed that. I’m so tired now.”, he murmured.

you opened up your arms. Tom watched you intently.

“c’mere”

“for what?”

“pleaseee don’t fight me on this one. I just wanna hold you.”

“what, like cuddling?”, he questioned, looking doubtful.

“yea… is that okay?”

“um… yea, yea it is. its just that… fuck, this is embarrassing.”, he rubbed his eyes, trying to hide his uneasiness.

“listen, all of the girls I’ve been with before, I never really did anything like that with them. usually we would just hook up and they would leave. what im trying to say I guess, is that I don’t really know how to cuddle or anything like that. I sound so stupid. its kinda just like hugging, right?”, he rambled.

at first, you couldn’t even say anything because you could believe that your beautiful, beautiful boyfriend had never been shown love and affection like that before. he so clearly deserved it, even though he had his moods, he was the sweetest thing. You felt bad for him. That was probably why he hadn’t shown or done anything like that for you before.

“I’ll show you how.”, you responded with a small but sweet smile. his eyes sorta lit up and he picked up his head from the pillow.

“show me how?”

“mhm, c’mere. don’t make me wait any longer, im tired too y’know.”, you teased him a little. Tom scoffed before scooting over to you, waiting for your instructions.

“put your head against my chest, under mine.”

he listened to you, putting the side of his face against your chest. You took his arm and wrapped it around your waist, and he quickly got the memo and snuck his other arm beneath you so that they were both wrapped around you. He pulled you closer, forcing you to smile. you entangled your legs with his.

you two were finally cuddling. you had wanted to for so long, but you didn’t know how to ask. you could feel Tom’s slow breath blow out against you as he got closer to falling asleep.

“thank you, baby.”, he sleepily mumbled.

“of course. I’m sorry your day wasn’t great.”

“it’s definitely better now. I wish we would’ve done this earlier.”

“I thought you didn’t really want me to touch you, or for you to touch me, in this way, I guess…”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to but it was just unfamiliar to me and that kind of scared me, I didn’t want to do anything wrong and I’m not used to this kind of affection.”

“I’m sorry, Tom.”, you said, gently stroking his hair. he breathed deeply, showing you how relaxed he was becoming.

“it’s okay, I have you now.”

You continued to play with his hair as he cuddled you, and you could tell just how peaceful he was. He ended up falling asleep pretty fast. You were so happy that he was able to unwind and open up with you. You reached over to the candle and blew it out. You flipped the light switch off and let yourself fall asleep in Tom’s arms.

~

a/n ~ awww this is very sweet to me😭 I love doing these cutesy little stories, they are my favorite to write. I’m in my home country right now so I’m sorry if my posts are very inconsistent or posted at a weird time, thank you for the request!! all of the comments are so sweet too, and they make me feel a lot less insecure about my writing. have a good day !!!💋😽

#tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fanfic #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz fanfic #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #tokio hotel #tokio hotel fanfic #georg listing #gustav schäfer

[seungrem]

Dick Grayson x Male!reader

‘Confidential’ ~*+

Masterlist - Part 1 of ??

summary: When reader and a friend fall victim to a scheme in Gotham, a cute cop (if that’s what he really is) takes reader in for protection. Waiting for the mystery regarding his friend’s disappearance to be uncovered, reader insists on helping the cop.

( overview: college student!reader, cop?grayson, Alessio Falcone = made up character, kidnapping, hero-canon-typical violence, a murder attempt, protective custody, and police. basically a plot intro, Batfam & Red Hood cameos )

emoji code:

🌿 ( long story & series - 5.1k words )

🧸 ( light fluff )

🫧 ( light angst )

☁️ ( stands for y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Sunlight gleamed through the trees above as ☁️ sat alone at a table, his computer buzzing softly. A gentle breeze brushed against his hoodie, cooling the boy in this unusually hot spring air.

The sound of someone clearing their throat caused ☁️ to jump, him then noticing a man standing opposite to where he sat. The man placed his brown satchel onto the seat as ☁️ lowered his computer screen.

“Hello, are you ☁️?”

“Hello-oh...”

☁️ lifted his gaze from his computer to the man, looking him up and down. He was tall and handsome with long dark hair and blue eyes. His muscular build was visible through his blue shirt and black jacket. The boy assumed he was simply another student- a hot one at that.

“Oh? Are you not..”

“No, no- sorry. I am, what’s up?”

“I’ve been looking for you. Do you mind if I join you for a sec?” The man’s tone was soft, and his voice not too deep.

“Sure.” ☁️ responded, motioning him to sit. As the stranger sat, the boy stared expectantly at him.

The man reached into his jacket pocket, grabbing a golden badge and briefly holding it in front of ☁️’s face. He quickly placed the badge back into his pocket and then looked around.

“My name is Richard Grayson, but you can call me Dick. I’m with the GCPD and I’d like to ask you a few questions.” He paused. “You’re best-friends with Alessio Falcone, right?”

☁️ huffed, annoyed.

“Not really. And you’re the fourth cop who’s come up to me since he went missing. I already told-”

“I only have two interviews on file. Who’s the third one?” Dick said, pulling a tan folder from his bag. He opened it, looking through the pages.

“Tim.. something. I forgot the last name.”

“Drake?”

“Probably.”

Dick cursed under his breath, placing the file on the table.

“I need you to go over the events of last Friday again. Give me every detail.”

“I have a paper to write.” ☁️ said, getting agitated. He rolled his eyes, turning his attention from Dick to his laptop. Dick swiped the laptop away with quickness, closing it, and then placing it into his bag.

“I need you to take this seriously.”

☁️ exhaled. “Alessio and I were only school friends. He’s impulsive and stubborn, and I would be very surprised if he was still alive after two days.”

“He’s a Falcone, after all. So you two were only school friends? Nothing more?”

“Is that not what I said?”

“Play nice or I’m taking this home.” Dick said, tapping his bag.

☁️ sighed, intertwining his fingers and placing his hand in his lap.

- 2 days ago -

Roaring past ☁️ and Alessio, two black vans turned the corner in front of them.

“We’re getting farther from campus. Let’s head back.” ☁️ suggested, looking around at the cloudy sky above. Alessio pretended not to hear him, the two continuing down the sidewalk and turning the corner. Upon turning, the sidewalk came to an abrupt end, with a long path of grass in its place. The two vans parked far in the distance, in front of a seemingly abandoned black barn.

“I wanna see what they’re up to.” Alessio pushed his long brown hair from out of his eyes, him then looking over to ☁️. Alessio wore his signature gray polo-shirt with straight black pants and black loafers, his style making his rich lifestyle particularly obvious.

“That’s an easy way to get killed. We’re still in Gotham.” ☁️ responded as he stopped. Alessio noticed, him doing the same.

“We don’t need to get super close, I just wanna see what they bring inside.” Alessio smiled, gesturing ☁️ to continue forward. His watch reflected the little sunlight that came from the sky as he did so.

Only a few blocks away from Gotham City University, Alessio and ☁️ continued through the grass. The two passed the buildings beside them, a small field of trees now standing in between them and the barn. The road turned into a dirt path, with many thick trees shading each side of it.

“Stay behind the trees.” ☁️ instructed as the two creeped through the mini-forest.

Getting close enough to see what the people from the vans were exporting into the building, ☁️ noticed that the barn was much larger than it appeared. Alessio and ☁️ watched as metal suitcases were carefully lifted and brought inside by a few people at a time.

“What do you think are in them?” Alessio asked in a low tone, keeping his gaze on the small group.

“Drugs, probably. We should head back now.”

“We still have 20 minutes until class.”

“That’s not what I mean. We’ve gotten too close, and it looks like they’re leaving soon.”

The small group of people walked outside, talking loudly amongst themselves. ☁️ could only make out a few phrases, like “..that guy’s a total creep..” and “..what do you think he’s doing with..”

Alessio crept toward a tree that was closer to the group, standing behind it as he listened. ☁️ peaked over at him every few seconds, obviously worried.

After a few minutes, the vans roared down the dirt road and back onto the main one. Alessio hurried back to ☁️, squatting down beside him.

“There’s something weird going on in there.”

“We can just call the cops. I’m not going in there.”

“Well, I am. Be my lookout.”

☁️ grabbed Alessio’s arm, holding it stiffly.

“Alessio, I will NOT go in there if anything happens. Please, let’s report it and go back.”

☁️ doesn’t remember what happened after that, but he does remember freaking out after waiting for 25 minutes. He sent the boy 6 messages, and his battery was getting low.

-

An hour passed, and the clouds were getting darker. ☁️ called the cops, explaining what he had seen and how his friend wasn’t responding. He power-walked his way back to campus as suggested by the dispatcher on the phone, where he met with an officer.

“What do you mean you’re not going in there?! He could be hurt!” ☁️’s eye twitched as another cop pulled to the curb beside the two. The first cop leaned against his car, filling out a packet on a clipboard.

“That property actually belongs to someone, despite it looking abandoned. I’m making your report now, and then we’ll request an emergency warrant.”

“How long will it take?”

“A few hours to a day. This number will give you call with any updates we have of your friend.”

The officer handed ☁️ a small card with a number on it as the second officer approached them.

“It’s being handled.” The first officer stated as he turned to the second, the two then looking at ☁️.

“I’m going to speak to him privately for a moment, we’ll be right back.” The second cop said.

☁️ stood still as the two walked over to the other side of the car. He tried his best to listen in on their conversation, but he once again could only recall certain parts.

“Another missing..” and “could be related to..” with “I know that the warrant … granted, but..”

The boy waited impatiently for them to return, figuring their conversation was referring to the three other students who had also gone missing over the past week. The news spread like wildfire on campus, but the topic quickly faded out of circulation. The paranoia, however, lingered behind.

The officers walked back to where ☁️ stood.

“I’m going to put this in asap, if you have any concerns call the number on the card or the non-emergency number.” The first officer said, him then getting into his car.

“I know this is a tough situation. Do you need a ride home?” The second officer asked, watching as ☁️ looked down and nodded.

- 2 days later -

“Did they give you an update on the warrant?” Dick continued writing on his small notepad.

“Yes, they said it was approved and that they would send their tactical team in tomorrow morning. I’m just worried that it’s too late.”

“I’m not sure why they waited so long considering there’s been another two students missing since.” Dick placed his head into his fist, clearly thinking out loud. “It’s not a coincidence.”

“Whatever creep is in there probably has my friend..” ☁️ paused, his mouth becoming dry and his head pounding. “Are we done? I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

“Have you slept since then?”

☁️ was taken aback by the question, but looked up with a monotone gaze, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry.” Dick muttered, him then grabbing the computer from his bag and placing it in front of ☁️.

“No need to be. Is that all?”

“No.”

☁️ exhaled again, hoping to make the cop go away with a harsh tone. “What more do you want?”

“Can you show me where that barn is?”

☁️ gave him a glare, becoming suspicious.

“Are you sure you’re a cop?”

“I showed you my badge, didn’t I?”

“You seem too young.”

“I’m in my early twenties, same as you. I’m only a year or two older.”

“Right..” ☁️ glanced around him. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Do you wanna find your friend or not?”

-

“I’m stopping here. You can see it down that path and behind the trees.” ☁️ turned to Dick, who walked into the middle of the empty road.

“Thank you. I’ll try to investigate tonight.”

☁️ furrowed his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going to come back and see if I can find anything.”

“Alone?”

“Probably not.”

“Can I come with?”

Dick turned to the boy.

“Absolutely not.”

“But you’re going.”

“I’m a cop.”

“I still don’t believe you.”

☁️ turned around and walked back around the corner. Dick followed closely behind, choosing to stay silent. As the two walked down the sidewalks in silence, they crossed the street to the GCU. ☁️ stopped as he stepped onto the stone path and turned to Dick.

“So, I’ll see you tonight?”

“Nope. I don’t need another student going missing.” He responded, looking around. “You shouldn’t be alone around campus, anymore. Let me walk you back to your dorm.”

“How’d you know I dormed?”

“I read the report before I came.”

“So you had me re-explain everything even though you knew?” ☁️ scowled at Dick, which seemingly amused him.

“I had to make sure your story matched up with what you told the cops.”

“Hm..”

☁️ took a few steps away from Dick.

“I think I’ll be fine walking alone, I’ll see you tonight.”

“☁️, I’m serious. I shouldn’t have told you-”

“I need to find my friend. Please.” ☁️ turned his back to Dick and motioned him to follow, the two continuing down the path.

“It would be easier to scan the area if you had more people helping.”

“I don’t think you understand how dangerous this is. We don’t know what ‘creeps’ are in there, if they’re affiliated with a crime boss or villain, how many there are, and if your friend is even still inside.” Dick hesitated, continuing, “..I’m going to tell you something confidential, can you promise to not tell anyone?”

☁️ turned to him and nodded, Dick beginning upon observing the gesture.

“Carmine Falcone is livid, and he’s been sending his guys to the area to retrieve his son. From what I’ve heard, his guys have been going missing too. It’s not just students getting picked off. Anybody who’s in the area is… and I’m very surprised nobody’s come to get you yet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Considering you pretty much exposed the operation to the police, I expected whoever was behind it to get at you next. To keep you quiet or.. you know.. Which is partially why I’ve come today.”

“You’re confusing me.” ☁️ groaned as the two passed a small group of students. Waiting for the group to gain some distance, ☁️ continued.

“Who are you? Actually.”

“I’m a private investigator. Pretty much a cop.”

“And who hired you?”

“Confidential.”

“Then I guess our conversation ends here. My dorm is down the block. If you find anything, please fine me again.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask for your number. For professional purposes, of course.”

“Oh, sure.” ☁️ smirked, taking Dick’s phone. After typing his number in, he handed the device back.

“Thanks.”

☁️ nodded, walking off. He felt Dick continue behind him, causing the boy to turn around.

“I told you I was fine from here.”

“I know, I just need to go back with you.”

“What? Why?”

“Precautionary measures.”

“For?”

“We’ll see.”

“Dick, I don’t think you need to-”

“I expect someone to be in your dorm. That’s why I insist on going with.”

“You mean my roommate?”

“Don’t you have your own room?”

“How do you know that?”

“Private investigator.”

☁️ huffed and nodded, turning around the corner toward a large beige building of gothic architecture. Dick walked in front of ☁️, opening the glass doors and waiting for him to step through. ☁️ smiled at the gesture, whispering his thanks to the man. Pulling out his student ID from his backpack, ☁️ approached the front desk with Dick not too far behind.

“Hello, this man is another cop. He’s going to inspect my room quickly.”

☁️ watched as Dick took his badge from out of his jacket pocket. He held it over the desk for the front desk lady to see, her then nodding in understanding.

“No problem, I’m just going to need to scan his ID.”

Dick pulled out his ID from his jean pocket, sliding it over to the lady. She took it and placed it over a small black box, it beeping only a second later. She handed the ID to Dick and smiled.

“All good.”

“Thanks.” Dick smiled, following ☁️ across the lobby and to the elevators. Their shoes tapped against the marble floors, ☁️ watching Dick look around from over his shoulder. The two stopped in front of the elevators as ☁️ tapped the button.

“Have you ever been inside this place?” ☁️ asked, Dick continuing to look around.

“Once when I was younger, so it’s been a while. My adopted dad went here and contributes to the school pretty often.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” ☁️ responded. The elevator beeped and opened, the two stepping inside.

The ride was quiet, with ☁️ keeping an eye on Dick. Dick noticed, breaking the silence as they finally had reached the sixth floor.

“Still don’t trust me?”

“That’s right.”

The two strolled down the hall, ☁️ recognizing a classmate he was friends with.

“☁️, hey!” She said, walking up to the two guys.

“Ah, hey. How’re you?”

“Good, how’re you? And who’s this cutie?” She whispered the last question, leaning into ☁️ while looking at Dick. Dick looked away as the two quickly conversed.

“Nobody, he’s just taking a quick look at my room.” He whispered back. The friend gave him a suggestive smirk, which made ☁️ shake his head.

“It’s not like that, he’s a cop.”

“How’d you pull a cop?”

“He’s just so full of charm.” Dick said sarcastically, nudging at ☁️’s arm. Though confused, ☁️ and his friend waved goodbye to each other as they parted ways. Dick and ☁️ continued down the hallway, Dick still gripping the boy’s arm.

“You don’t have to hold my arm anymore.”

“You pulled a cop, remember? Take responsibility.” Dick teased, though the boy smiled and rolled his eyes in response. He pulled away from Dick as he arrived to his door toward the end of the hallway.

“Here we are.” ☁️ said softly, grabbing his keycard from his backpack pocket. As he was about to slide it into the door lock, Dick stopped him.

“Wait, here’re the rules. I walk in first, and you stay three steps behind me. If someone’s in there, just stay back. I’ll take care of them.” Dick whispered, leaning into ☁️.

“You’re awfully confident. And paranoid.” ☁️ whispered back.

“This isn’t my first rodeo.”

☁️ blinked at the comment, ultimately ignoring it. He placed his card into the lock, allowing Dick step in first. ☁️ followed around three feet behind as the two tiptoed into the room. Dick placed his bag down, him then quickly opening the closet in the hallway, with nothing but a few pairs of shoes and jackets inside. He continued slowly, stopping in front of the bathroom door to the right- it slightly ajar. As Dick was about to push it open, a man jumped out and tackled him to the floor. ☁️ fell back in shock, crawling backwards.

Dick used his legs to toss the man off and behind him, quickly standing up. The man did the same, repeatedly lunging at Dick with a shiny object in his hand. Dick smoothly dodged the attacks, grabbing the man’s wrist and pulling it, Dick then kneeing him in the stomach. With a swift punch to the temple, the man fell to the ground, unconscious.

Dick hurried back to ☁️, helping him stand up. He looked back, then holding his hand to his lips to keep him quiet. The two continued down the hallway into the tiny kitchen, there luckily being nobody there. Opening the last door down the hall, Dick walked into ☁️’s bedroom. ☁️ remained outside, staring at the unconscious man on the other side of the hall. He turned his attention back to Dick, who looked through his closet and then under his bed. Upon giving the ‘okay,’ he walked back over to ☁️.

“They only sent one goon. That’s rare.” Dick muttered before walking down the hall. ☁️ followed slowly behind him.

“I’m not gonna say I told you so. But..”

“I know, I know. Thank you.”

Dick nodded, walking into the bathroom and turning the light on. ☁️ waited outside again, Dick carrying a duffle bag out only a few seconds later.

“Assuming this isn’t yours?” Dick asked, ☁️ whispering a ‘no.’ He placed the bag beside the man on the floor, Dick then going through his satchel. The man on the floor now had an extremely apparent bruise on his temple, directly under his receding hairline. He wore a plain white tee with a few dirt marks on it, along with dark green cargo pants and big black boots.

Dick hurried to dig through his bag, him pulling a pair of handcuffs out and pushing the guy onto his stomach, handcuffing him. He then checked the guy’s pockets, finding an old smartphone and a walkie talkie. Dick placed both objects into his bag before turning to ☁️.

“Hurry and pack your stuff. You can’t stay here for a while.”

-

Dick had called the cops to take the intruder away as ☁️ followed the small group outside. The officers and Dick carried the man into a cop car, while ☁️ waited outside with a suitcase and his backpack.

Dick walked back to him, a pitiful expression across his face.

“I’m sorry that it has to be like this. It’ll only be until I crack this case.”

“I understand, but where am I going to go?”

“Do you have family in Gotham?”

“If I did I wouldn’t be dorming.”

“Oh, right… Wanna stay with me?”

“Not sure that I’d feel much safer with a mysterious private investigator.”

“Lucky for you, I’ve got a family full of them. I also already told the officers that you said you would.”

☁️ pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh don’t give me that look. My family’s very nice.”

“I have no doubt about that. I just don’t wanna be a burden.”

“Oh stop, I’m inviting you.”

☁️ nodded. “Does this mean I can go with you tonight?”

“Still no. I have to make a few calls, just follow behind me.”

The two conversed as they continued through the campus, ☁️ trying to get some information out of Dick.

“So, do you know the cop I spoke to last night? Tim-something?”

“Yes, but it’s complicated.”

“How so?” ☁️ asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s not his actual name, and he’s my brother. He uses our other brother’s name when he’s out.”

“That’s.. odd. Is your name actually Richard, then?”

“Yes, I don’t do that. Only they do.”

☁️ nodded in understanding. Dick continued.

“You’re going to love my little brothers. Tim is a genius and the most considerate boy I know. And Damien is very kind-spirited- he’s outspoken and also very observant. You met Jason, already. He’s just a big teddy bear, honestly.”

☁️ raised an eyebrow at the last comment as Dick continued.

“I have other siblings, but they aren’t staying with us at the moment.”

“The Jason I met was big and scary..”

“That’s just ‘cause he’s working. He’s a softie, and he’ll make you laugh a lot when he’s not out.”

☁️ didn’t necessarily believe him, as the Jason he met yesterday was very straightforward with a somewhat aggressive tone.

“Right..”

After that, the conversation ended and the walk was silent once again. The silence didn’t last long, as Dick kept peering over to ☁️.

“So.. since we’re being honest with each other.. Is Alessio really your friend?”

“Yes, we met last semester. I thought that he was an asshole until we worked together on a project. He’s a lot nicer than people say.”

“So you aren’t dating?”

☁️ looked over to Dick, his eye twitching.

“This is the second time you’ve suggested that. What makes you think we’re together?”

“Mm.. just wondering.”

“Did you wanna take me out or something?” ☁️ asked, sarcastically. He smiled and turned to Dick.

“Maybe.”

“Wait, really?”

“You pulled a cop, remember?”

“How long are you gonna hold that against me?”

“Dunno.” Dick shrugged. Now, he was the one to grin at the man next to him.

-

A black SUV pulled beside Dick and ☁️ in the campus’s parking lot. Dick leaned against his motorcycle, still on the phone. Though ☁️ tried his best not to eavesdrop, Dick had called a man named Alfred to pick him up. Then, he called someone named Bruce, explaining ☁️’s situation in soft whispers. Now, he was on the phone with Jason, who seemed to be giving Dick a hard time. ☁️ only heard bits of the conversation.

An older man got out of the black SUV and opened the trunk, Dick gesturing for ☁️ to walk over to him.

“Hello, Mr. ☁️, right?”

“Yes, hello.” ☁️ said, watching the man take his suitcase and gently place it into the vehicle.

“What’s your name?”

“Please call me Alfred.”

☁️ nodded, watching as Alfred walked past him and opened the backseat door. He pointed inside, ☁️ saying a ‘thank you’ and stepping inside with his backpack around his shoulder. Alfred closed the door, approaching Dick as he hung up the phone. The two conversed for a few seconds before Alfred walked back alone, stepping into the vehicle.

“Master Dick has some errands to run before he joins you at the manor. He should be back shortly after you arrive.” Alfred explained as he started the car engine.

“Okay.” ☁️ said dully, watching out of the window as Dick sped away on his motorcycle.

—

Alfred and ☁️ conversed for the entirety of the ride, with the boy explaining his peculiar situation. After a few minutes, the vehicle pulled up to a set off tall, black gate doors. The estate fencing spread far down the road, with a sharp point on each post top- the bottom end going through lined brick along the ground.

Alfred pulled out his phone, the tall gate doors opening moments later. He turned his gaze to ☁️ in the rear-view mirror, ☁️ unintentionally returning the gaze as the man drove into the property. He drove down a stone path lined by large bushes before turning slightly, a mansion of brown and blacks now in view.

“Master Dick volunteered the manor as your safe house as opposed to a protective custody facility. There must be something very special about you, Mr. ☁️.”

☁️ felt as though his tone was rather suggestive, but nodded and smiled as Alfred parked the car.

The two got out, Alfred opening the trunk and grabbing ☁️’s suitcase. They then proceeded up the steps, with the door opening as soon as Alfred placed the suitcase back onto the ground. ☁️ peaked from behind him, seeing a tall man with black hair and a scar on lip in the doorframe. It was Tim- or rather- Jason, the cop who ☁️ spoke to yesterday.

“I’ll take it, Alfred.” Jason said, picking the suitcase up as if it weight nothing.

“Master Jason will take you to your room.”

“Thank you.” ☁️ turned from Alfred to Jason, who began walking into the manor and toward the double staircase. ☁️ followed closely behind, the size of the home making him feel small. The two walked up the left side of the staircase in silence. Upon reaching the top, Jason placed the suitcase down softly and turned to ☁️.

“Hi. I know we met before and it’s weird seeing me again. My name’s actually Jason, my brother is Tim-“

“I know, Dick told me about it.” ☁️ interrupted with a gentle tone, saving Jason the explanation.

“What else did he tell you?” Jason asked as he began down the hallway.

“You’re both private investigators. And that you’re a ‘big teddy bear’ apparently.”

Jason scoffed at the comment, a smirk forming on his face.

“Do you think I’m a ‘big teddy bear?’” Jason turned to him as he stopped at a door to his right. He pushed it open, dragging ☁️’s suitcase inside.

“More of just big.” ☁️ muttered, looking him up and down- Jason wearing a white shirt with wrinkled black jeans, his hair just as messy as it was yesterday. He was taller than Dick, but his muscles could be seen from his clothing just the same. Jason heard ☁️’s response and tried not to look offended.

“I mean in a.. muscular way..” ☁️ said, walking in front of him to look at the room.

“Wow..” Jason responded sarcastically.

The room was large with walls of maroon and gold accents. A wardrobe, dressers, a nightstand, and the bed frame were all a dark brown wood material. The ceiling was white, as were the window frames. Wooden flooring reflected a light brown, though it didn’t creak as ☁️ walked across it.

“This was my room, but I don’t mind you staying in it for a bit. The sheets are clean and the dresser next to the bed is empty, so you can put your clothes in it.”

“Where are you going to sleep, then?” ☁️ asked, turning to face him.

“The couch. I have my own place- I’ve just been staying here for the past few days to deal with.. y’know.. your case.”

“I don’t think I understand, but I don’t want to take your bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” ☁️ said, grabbing his suitcase handle and dragging it toward the door. Jason stepped in front of him, blocking the doorway.

“I don’t mind. Unless you want to take Dick’s room. He’s got a thing for you, and if you don’t feel the same way, I think that’d be a little awkward.”

☁️ looked away from Jason, and smiled.

“I do, just a bit. He’s cute, but I barely know him.”

“He’s dated, like, three people in his entire life. I don’t think you have much to worry about.”

☁️ nodded as Jason moved out of his way.

“It’s the next door down. I’ll wash his sheets for you.”

“Thanks.”

Moonlight emitted through the room windows, illuminating the bed in which ☁️ sat on.

Dick’s room was comfortable and just as large as Jason’s. He visited ☁️ shortly after the boy arrived at the manor, obviously pleased to see the ☁️ in his bed. Not too long after, Alfred gave him a tour of the home, introducing him to the Wayne Manor. Both surprised and intimated to be in the Bruce Wayne’s house, ☁️ remained in the room to avoid meeting more of Dick’s family.

After falling asleep in Dick’s bed, it was now nighttime. ☁️ grabbed his phone from the nightstand, pulling up the man’s ‘Hey, this is Dick.’ message. He noticed that it was around 11pm as he began typing.

‘Hey, are you still going back there tonight?’

He placed the phone in his pocket and walked to the door, peaking out to make sure nobody was around. He silently wandered down the hallway and to the railing between the set of stairs, finding Alfred dusting the shelves below him. He walked down, watching as Alfred turned in his direction. ☁️ approached him.

“Hey Mr. Alfred. Do you know where Dick is?”

“I’m sorry, you missed him. Master Dick left an hour ago.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“He said it was ‘confidential.’”

☁️ furrowed his eyebrows, contemplating on whether or not Dick went back to that barn.

“Actually, Mr. ☁️, Master Dick informed me that you had hoped to join him tonight. He gave me specific orders to keep you inside- it seemed he did not want you leaving due to safety concerns.”

Annoyed, ☁️ pursed his lips. “Oh.. I understand. Thank you.”

Alfred nodded. “While you slept we had dinner, and I packed some food away for you. It’s in the fridge, please help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

☁️ nodded again, thanking Alfred as he walked down the hallway and toward the kitchen. Jason was in there, running around the island as he rushed passed ☁️. Upon realizing that ☁️ was behind him, he quickly turned back around.

“Hey ☁️, did Dick reach out to you in the past hour?”

☁️ shook his head. “Alfred basically said he left to the barn an hour ago.”

Jason nodded, about to turn around before ☁️ began grilling him.

“Why? Is he there? Is he okay?”

“..Confidential. I might have to head over there as well.” Jason said, not looking ☁️ in the eye.

“Why does everybody keep saying that to me? Take me with.”

“I can’t.”

“Jason, please. I want to help.”

“Help by not getting yourself killed.” Jason said, pulling out his phone as it buzzed. He read the words on the screen before looking up at ☁️.

“Actually, I’ll have a friend pick you up. Be ready in 10 mins. To avoid anybody seeing you, climb out the window and use the gutter to get to the ground. Walk across the garden and use the bird bath next to the gate to jump over it. Walk around and meet him in front of the entrance.”

“Gonna assume you’ve done that before?”

“Many times.” Jason said before smiling and rushing out of sight. A skeptical Alfred peaked from down the hall, forcing ☁️ to return to the kitchen. He grabbed a fruit and quickly ate it before walking back to his room. He threw on a black sweater and zipped it up, him then opening Dick’s window and climbing out. The night’s cool air brushed against ☁️’s face almost immediately, with the sounds of crickets and leaves swishing together filling the air.

‘I’m an idiot for doing this- trusting these people and going back to that place. But I really need to know what’s in there. I need to see it for myself.’ ☁️ thought to himself as he carefully slid down the gutter, trying to make his escape a silent one. He ran across the grass through a garden of large bushes and flowers, finding the bird bath Jason had mentioned. He climbed on top of it, leaning forward and grasping the side of a post’s sharp point. Leaning forward, he hoisted himself over the gate, barely grazing the posts’ sharp tips. ☁️ bracing for impact, he landed on his knees and elbows. He brushed himself off, and then ran along the gate. Cutting around the corner, he found a pair of glowing red eyes piercing through him. The Red Hood was waiting for him.

“Get on.” Red Hood instructed, his voice deep and synthetic.

☁️ hurried over to the motorcycle Red Hood sat on, holding onto his waist as the two sped off into the night.

likes, comments, & reblogs appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

a/n: i’ve been itching to do a dc fic :,) ik this isn’t usually what i write, but thx for giving it a chance ! <3

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